


Before The Dawn

by the-bi-sokka-club (blametheone)



Series: Before The Dawn [1]
Category: Avatar: The Last Airbender
Genre: Alternate Universe - Post-Canon, Angst, Arranged Marriage, Engagement, Firelord Iroh, Friends With Benefits, Friends With Benefits to Friends to Forced Fiances to Actual Husbands, Iroh (Avatar) is a Good Uncle, M/M, Past Maiko, Period-Typical Homophobia, Sokka and Zuko are exes, Swearing, Weddings, Zukka Wedding, Zukka being emotionally repressed nerds, also ft. pretty much everyone else in varying degrees, background kataang, dadkoda, i dont think any archive warnings apply because they're in-world of legal age, implied Hakoda/Bato, lots of talk about sex, mentions of homophobic physical abuse to unknown character, past Sukka, sokka and katara being good siblings, zuko and azula being okay siblings
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-21
Updated: 2020-10-21
Packaged: 2021-03-02 23:55:14
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 16
Words: 67,221
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/24335470
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/blametheone/pseuds/the-bi-sokka-club
Summary: Hakoda watched his son’s face as they sat peacefully out on the open sea. Sokka had a little grin, contented and joyful, as he bobbed the line up and down. The ice box between them had a couple fish in it now, which the chief had decided was his sign to finally break the news.‘Hey, you know how you were chased for the better half of a year by an angry firebender who was hell-bent on killing you to get to the Avatar, then you guys teamed up and became friends while saving the world? Yeah, you have to marry him now, have fun.’Or, the one where Sokka and Zuko broke up but they neglected to tell anyone about being together in the first place, and now they're engaged.
Relationships: Sokka/Zuko (Avatar)
Series: Before The Dawn [1]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1873093
Comments: 444
Kudos: 2191





	1. Foreword from the Author

**Author's Note:**

> title from "Northern Wind" by City and Colour

I'll start out by thanking everyone for the support on Before the Dawn thus far, and for the confidence boost it has given me to continue growing my writing skills.

At the time of writing this fic I was reading all of the zukka fanfiction pre-Renaissance, and essentially used this fic as a dumping ground for all of my thoughts on the ship, the characters and the show. And at the time, as a white person, I didn't recognise all of the problematic implications that come with this ship, and particularly with this trope.

I have grown since then, and sincerely apologise for contributing to the Imperialist/Colonist Dream trope that follows here in this fic. I want to delete the fic, but I know that a lot of people sincerely enjoyed it and not one person has made a mention of this so far. 

However, I want everyone who reads this to understand that the implications of Sokka being married to the Fire Nation and leaving the SWT to live in the Fire Nation - with Hakoda not only complacent in this but _facilitating_ it - is deeply problematic, and carries racist and anti-indigenous tones that have been present in our media for generations. These tropes cause direct harm to BIPOC and perpetuate colonist ideals. I recognise this now and I apologise for not recognising it before.

I could say something about how "its just fanfiction" but I know for a fact that before the ATLA Renaissance there were approximately 400 zukka fics and I think approximately 2 of them included Sokka actually staying in the SWT after they established a relationship. So I have not created an AU where Sokka becomes a Fire Prince, but I have instead contributed to and helped grow an existing pool of media containing that problematic concept.

I still love zukka and the arranged marriage idea, and I plan to eventually re-write this later down the track. I'm working on some other long fics write now and plan to have the series beta'd so that this doesn't happen again. 

If this disclaimer has ruined the trope for you, I am not at all sorry.

We can do better as a fandom :)


	2. Prologue

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> please prepare yourself for at GRUESOME melding of american and commonwealth spelling because i've forgotten what's what and also my laptop refuses to comply when i change the language settings.
> 
> this fic is also marked Mature for a REASON, kids get out. there is no smut, but sex is a part of their relationship and its development so its referred to a lot and there is a lot of swearing and otherwise graphic language, please be aware.
> 
> hope you enjoy! i know nothing about anything, please always feel free to comment or send me a message on tumblr (the-bi-sokka-club) if there's anything you feel uncomfortable with in this fic or if i use misinformation!!

_To Chief Hakoda,  
of the Southern Water Tribe_

_Joy and jubilation! A whole year since the end of the Hundred Year War. What a great victory for the world we have seen, now, and how proud of your children must you be for their valiant fight alongside the Avatar._

_I was a part of the many fights leading up to the day of Sozin’s Comet, where your children and the Avatar overthrew my brother, and I know firsthand that you have two brilliant, and talented children, capable of such love and bestowing such honour upon yourself and your tribe._

_I do not wish this to sound facetious, I am genuinely in awe of your children and your tribe for its courageous contributions to the end of this horrific war. In the year since the war has ended, I have seen much of Katara and Sokka, and they have some brilliant ideas about how to repair the damages caused by the war._

_In an effort to repair the Fire Nation’s relationships with the rest of the world, I am travelling to meet with the leaders of our nations to discuss reparations. We would like to maybe change school curriculums, or have ambassadors from each nation in our palace, or restore old peace treaties – but I would like to speak with you directly before making any decisions on how the Fire Nation moves forward with our relationship to the Southern Water Tribe._

_I have travelled to the Earth Kingdom already, and have spoken to the new Earth King. I am excited to know what ideas you have for our nations moving forward._

_Please, let me know when you can if you are available for a visit. It would be an honour to return to the Southern Water Tribe on better terms._

_Thank you,  
Firelord Iroh_

Hakoda held the scroll in his hands, letting the weight of its fancy gilded edges fill his heart with relief. One year on, it was still unbelievable that the war was over, and Hakoda had been so terrified that killing Ozai, or rendering him powerless, would change nothing. He knew Zuko, the would-be successor, and knew that maybe things would change with that boy in charge, but when he heard that Iroh was taking his place as Firelord instead, Hakoda had felt that same hitch in his breath that he had when Ozai had taken Azulon’s place.

This war had been raging for generations of the Royal Fire Nation family, and there was that doubtful part of Hakoda that felt like Iroh would just continue the same actions has his father and brother, just no longer calling it a war. He had been holding his breath for a year, waiting for Fire Nation soldiers to come and attempt to collect taxes, or purge their land for the sake of it, or colonize the South Pole to ‘civilise’ the Southern Water Tribe.

But this letter, this letter was a genuine sign that Iroh was willing to repair the damages. A sign that Firelord Iroh could do good things in his place as a ruler.

Hakoda picked up the nearest brush and ink pot, settling down at his desk to reply. The hawk that delivered the message hung about dutifully, quietly watching Hakoda write out a response.


	3. PART I

Sokka was trying desperately to swallow the bile in his throat when he saw the black snow. He knew it was Iroh coming to meet with his father, but everyone in the tribe had associated the black snow with terror and heartbreak. He knew Iroh couldn’t help it, their ships were run by coal and fire, and that coal and fire meant soot. But it hurt still to see the darkened snow. Sokka hoped that in time, he would be able to associate the black snow, and by extension the Fire Nation, with friendship and peace. For now, he just felt a little sick.

Maybe not just because of the soot.

Hakoda, next to him, held out his gloved hand and let the dark snow fall against his palm, shooting Sokka a look of many emotions, pained and amused. Hakoda shook the snow from his hand, straightened his shoulders and sucked in a deep breath.

“It’s hard,” he said slowly, “Today is a great day, and yet, it starts like this.”

Sokka didn’t feel like responding.

He wanted to feel excited that he was seeing Zuko, one of his best and closest friends, but at the same time Zuko wasn’t just his best friend.

Zuko was a person who Sokka had a complicated history with, a person he may or may not have slept with a couple times, a person who announced his love to Sokka, a person who broke up with him because he was scared of his own feelings, then they swore they’d just be friends and proceeded to break that promise (three times) in the time between the break up and now, and no one knew about _any_ of it.

So, Sokka was a little nervous, is all.

Hakoda nodded to his son and left to go back to the community hall (previously referred to as the war-tent) to make sure that it and the adjoining rooms were ready and suitable for the Firelord and anyone coming with him.

Sokka looked out at their village, where all of their tribe were also holding their breath and pretending to be fine going about their day, all of them watching the snow with a cautious eye. He pulled his anorak closer – he was honestly still adjusting to the cold of the South Pole after spending so much time in the tropical areas – and began moving around the town, chatting with people to lighten the mood and offering help wherever needed.

~*~

“Chief Hakoda!”

Sokka turned his head towards the docks at the sound of Iroh’s voice, handing Ahnah the pile of folded washing he had been holding for her with a smile.

“Thanks, Sokka,” she chimed, putting the pile into the basket at her feet and lifting the basket onto her hip. Kallik, _now already three years old it could make Sokka cry to think how fast she was growing up_ , ran after her mother with a giggle.

Hakoda was already at the dock, greeting Iroh in a warm embrace, slapping his back like old friends, even though they barely knew each other.

War could do that, Sokka guessed.

The young man approached the dock and greeted the new Firelord with grace, Iroh chuckled and raised an eyebrow at him, arms outstretched. Sokka laughed and hugged the old man, laughing to himself as he recognized the faint smell of ginseng.

Hakoda welcomed Iroh through into the village and Sokka turned expectantly to the ramp up to the ship, waiting. Royal guards came down the ramp, following Iroh and Hakoda towards the community hall. A couple people Sokka didn’t recognize who looked official and were not guards also came down, and were escorted by some more guards, following behind the Chief and the Firelord.

Sokka felt his heart sink just the itsiest bit and he took in a deep breath, moving back towards the centre of the village.

Apparently, Zuko had decided not to come.

He knew Zuko had things to do back home, but Sokka couldn’t help but feel a little sorry for himself and also maybe a little grumpy that Zuko decided to stay home. After all, when Hakoda had travelled to the Fire Nation a few months after the end of the war to discuss strategic planning for returning all the nations’ soldiers home, Sokka had come so he could see his best friend again.

But, apparently, Zuko was still an over-thinking anxious blob who couldn’t handle the thought of having to control himself around Sokka again.

“-thank you, Ji, but it’s part of my job. If any of you need anything, Chief Hakoda has opened the village for anyone aboard. Come eat and stay in the village if you want to.”

Sokka recognized that voice with a dull bump in his chest.

So Zuko _hadn’t_ stayed home.

Sokka turned and felt the corners of his mouth betray him and curl into a dopey smile at the sight of Zuko, the young warrior jogging back towards to ship to greet the prince.

Zuko still hadn’t noticed him, was touching the shoulder of each crew-mate he passed to check if there was anything they needed or anything he could help with, his features neutral and soft like he was trying to pretend he was just doing his duty. And he was doing his duty, technically, but it was obvious to Sokka and probably everyone else that Zuko was genuinely caring for his crew and was actively trying to make up for his years of being a little shit. Or maybe he was avoiding stepping off the ship.

He was in his I Am A Royal clothes, not the full ceremonial robes, but the very nice prince-y ones that Sokka distantly remembers him wearing once or twice in the palace after Iroh’s coronation. His hair was pulled back – it always was now, it had grown a lot – and it accentuated the circles under his eyes. Apparently the trip to the South Pole had not been a restful one for the young prince.

Zuko’s head turned to take in the view of the village, and he spotted Sokka. A grin split over his face and he made his way down the ramp, treading carefully on the snow.

Sokka barely let Zuko get his footing on the soft ground before leaping onto him in a flying hug-attack.

“Gotcha!” he cried out while Zuko flailed and yelled wildly. “Where are those razor-sharp Fire Nation reflexes now?”

Zuko spluttered, pushing his hands against Sokka’s face and kicking his thighs lightly.

“You pushed me into the snow!” he whined, trying desperately to keep his head out of the snow to avoid a head of cold, wet hair later.

Sokka, laughing, got up off of Zuko and offered his hand out, slinging his arm over Zuko’s should the second they were both upright.

Zuko laughed, brushing the snow from his clothes, and let Sokka lead the way.

They walked in a comfortable silence, best friends reunited again, with a couple of the villagers (and crew) giggling at the scene they had just witnessed. Sokka, assuming Zuko was taking in the sights and observing the new buildings and places, let them walk in silence.

Apparently, that is not what was on Zuko’s mind.

“Hey,” the prince whispered softly, just between the two of them. “I wouldn’t bring this up but given our track record I just want to make clear that I don’t think it’s a good idea for us to have sex this trip. Yeah?”

Sokka startled a little, not expecting the request and unsure how to process it. Everything kind of went unspoken between them – desperately trying to still be best friends and forgetting about their past included. But, it was also completely fair, given it was what had happened all three times they had seen each other since the end of the war.

Sokka swallowed and nodded, ducking his head a little and pushed his hands deeper into his pockets.

“Probably smart.”

Sokka took a moment to appreciate how much they had both grown in a short year, and how long Zuko’s hair had gotten. He wondered distantly if fast-growing hair was a family trait, remembering how long Ozai’s hair (and goatee, _shudder_ ) was last year.

Zuko considered himself honorable enough to grow his hair now, which meant that it was now well past his shoulders. Most of the time that Sokka saw him, including now, he kept it all up in a top-knot. However, Sokka noticed it was beginning to get too long to be fully contained in a neat top-knot and he’d probably have to adapt to a new style soon if it kept growing.

The rest of Zuko was pretty much the same; a bit broader in the shoulders maybe, and an inch or two taller, and he smiled a bit more, for sure, but that was about it.

Sokka noticed that Zuko – who was trying to be sly about it but wasn’t very successful – was also checking out the new changes to Sokka’s appearance from the corner of his eye. The most noticeable was that he was getting lazier and lazier about shaving his face, and often (today included) had scruff on the bottom of his chin, and Sokka knew for a fact that in the year he’d been back home on a more stable diet of fatty sea-creatures with time to spar properly and train with the other warriors – he had filled out. A lot. It didn’t feel like an insane difference to him, and he certainly wasn’t “buff”, but he was far from the lanky teenager Zuko had gotten to know him as.

“Can I admit something sort of embarrassing to you?” Zuko leant closer while they walked together.

Sokka snorted. “You’ve admitted many embarrassing things to me so far, I don’t see the harm in one more.”

Zuko rolled his eyes. “I didn’t know your dad was the chief.”

Sokka frowned, steps faltering for a moment.

“What do you mean?”

“I _mean_ ,” Zuko continued, “I knew you were a warrior from the Southern Water Tribe, and then you said, ‘this is my dad’ when we went to the Boiling Rock, and then the war was over and someone said, ‘oh we should ask Chief Hakoda about that’ and I realized that you, your dad, and Katara all neglected to mention that _you’re essentially royalty_.”

Sokka blushed. In the Southern Water Tribe they didn’t see it like that. He had always seen himself as just a guy who grew up in an igloo, and yeah sure, one day he’d probably be the chief, but he would only be a chief of maybe twenty people. In the North he knew that children of the chief were referred to as ‘prince’ and ‘princess’, but they didn’t have that kind of hierarchy here.

Hakoda may have been chief but there were so few people in the village that he was still a part of all the community work that needed to be done, all the fishing and hunting and building as well as the planning, and so were his children. They didn’t have the resources in the South Pole to allow for a class system like other countries did.

When Sokka had lamented to Yue about being ‘a lowly peasant’, Katara had promptly smacked him over the head, and yelled something about how he was ‘dismissing dad’s achievements and status with his whining’, but she had a point – he certainly wasn’t a peasant – it just never felt like they were that powerful to have a title like ‘prince’.

“It never felt like that to us,” Sokka shrugged. _Royalty_. No way, nothing close to it.

“You didn’t think it was important to mention?” Zuko grinned. “To the future Firelord?”

Sokka rolled his eyes and pushed Zuko, only a little upset when he didn’t fall over.

~*~

“It warms my heart to see our nations in a peaceful meeting,” Iroh addressed the tent. They had been speaking for over an hour now, all together, and just as it was getting interesting, discussing how to show the world that there is room for harmony between the nations, Iroh had stood and addressed the tent.

“I thank you all for taking your time to be here, and I look forward to tomorrow’s meeting, but I was hoping that Chief Hakoda and I could talk alone.”

Iroh had all but waved his hand and all of the other people in the tent had left. Hakoda watched in what was almost awe as this man carried such grace that even Hakoda’s own warriors nearly stood before catching his gaze for permission to leave.

Hakoda nodded to his men and calmly sipped the wonderful tea Iroh had brewed while he waited for the tent to clear. Sokka shot his father a look but Hakoda merely quirked one eyebrow and his son obeyed and left with the others, pulling Zuko along with him. Hakoda hoped he showed Zuko around instead of goofing off and fishing, it would be beneficial for the future Firelord to learn how the Southern Water Tribe functioned.

His daughter, stubborn as ever, also shot him a look, still seated. Even Aang had stood up upon request and was now attempting to pull Katara along with him. Hakoda kept a straight face while he met his daughter’s gaze and waited until she gave in and left. It certainly wasn’t Kya that gave Katara her stubbornness.

Iroh and Hakoda waited in quiet until the tent was empty, and waited still until the entrance had stopped waving.

“Firelord Iroh,” the chief said softly, “What is it that you wish to discuss?”

Iroh took in a hard breath and poured himself more tea, grasping his cup to let the warmth calm him.

“I have spoken with the Earth King,” he started. “Informally, at first, but when your life is made up of politics an informal cup of tea becomes political. We all want to create a symbol of togetherness for our people, and we were discussing what that could look like.”

Iroh hummed and looked Hakoda in the eye.

“The King made a suggestion, and I would like you to consider it.”

~*~

Katara watched with fond disbelief as her brother ran off inland with Aang, eager to show him the fauna of the icy tundra. It was like they had both completely forgotten about the treaty meeting that everyone was kicked out of – no questions asked, just excited to see the polar bear dog puppies that were just born a few days ago, about an hour’s walk inland.

The waterbender rolled her eyes and caught Zuko’s gaze of equal disbelief.

“You know he hasn’t even shown me where we’re staying yet?” Zuko said quietly between the two of them, and Katara burst out into a fit of giggles, holding her hand in front of her mouth in a poor attempt to hide them.

“Come on,” she gestured for him to follow her, “I’ll show you around.”

~*~

“They’re so cute!” Aang cooed, eyes still transfixed on the pups through the binoculars Sokka had brought with them. They were as far away from the pups as they could get, not wanting to get between a mama polar bear dog and her babies, but Sokka was still keeping a close eye on the snow around them, just in case.

“Ooh! Ooh! Aang!” Sokka pulled the binoculars away and pointed to the right of them. “Check it out! The Arctic camel herd is moving through this way!”

“Woah!”

~*~

“Thank you,” Zuko gave a nod of his head towards Katara as he tightened the anorak around himself, lifting the hood to shield his head from the harsh cold. They were leaving the igloo that he and his uncle were to be staying in while they were in the South Pole, where Katara had laid out one of Sokka’s old fur-lined coats (that Katara referred to as his ‘dark-season’ anorak) to give to Zuko.

Katara smiled – Zuko was not able to get over the fact that she only had her light-season coat on, he was still freezing in clothes intended for their _winter_ , their winter when they had _3-hour-long days_ and _month-long blizzards_ – and playfully sent a mocking stare.

“You didn’t bring winter clothes, of course I had to lend you some.”

“I _did_ bring winter clothes,” Zuko countered, “But there isn’t single shop or tailor in the Fire Nation that has clothes suitable for the South Pole.”

“Uh huh, just let me know when your feet get cold, okay?” she joked.

(As if on cue, a middle-aged man hobbled past them on a pair of crutches that appeared to be made of bone and winked at them, nodding towards Katara and muttering, “listen to her,” just in time for Zuko to notice the man had no feet.)

Katara rolled her eyes and grabbed Zuko by the arm, pulling him towards the centre of the village.

“Ignore Amaruq, he lost his feet in the war, but he’s been telling all the kids in the village it was frostbite to scare them,” Katara ducked under a line of leather strung up to dry, leading Zuko behind a couple igloos. It appeared they were taking a short cut.

Zuko kept his mouth shut, curious about their intended destination but knowing it wasn’t worth asking because Katara probably wouldn’t tell him until they got there anyway.

Instead, he took the time to observe his surroundings and mentally map out the village. It already looked so different to the last time he was here, new buildings everywhere and so many more people out and about. There were small fireplaces scattered around, children rushing around and the general sounds of a village happening around them. It seemed like a happy place.

Zuko mused that the last time he was here he was conducting a raid on the village at the hands of the Fire Nation, so it’s not like he got a glimpse into the normal happenings of the Southern Water Tribe at the time anyway. Regardless, it was a happy place now, and Zuko felt grateful to be accepted back so easily.

“Here we are,” Katara murmured, leading Zuko around the side of an igloo that appeared to be a bit bigger than the rest, until they reached the front entrance. “This is our home. I just needed to come in and grab a few things, but then I thought I could show you around?”

Zuko nodded mutely and let Katara stumble off onto an off-set room to rummage for what she needed. He just let himself take it all in.

This was where they grew up. This little igloo in the middle of an ice-shelf, this igloo that probably wasn’t even as big as Zuko’s chambers back at the palace. The inside walls had leather skins strung up to cover the ice and insulate it, and there were chests and shelves and little decorative knick-knacks everywhere. There were great billowing cloths covering the roof, which Zuko guessed was maybe an additional insulation measure.

What struck Zuko’s eye first was the multiple boomerangs, some hung up, some in their sheaths tilted up against a corner, other strewn around on the floor.

Zuko had never seen anyone other than Sokka use a boomerang, and just kind of assumed it was a weird fascination that belonged just to Sokka. The fact that it was a normal part of the culture he grew up in was shocking in a way, for Zuko. He didn’t know why, he just never thought too hard about it. He knew it was used for hunting, but Sokka never really got the chance to use it for hunting when they were travelling because it was very clearly designed for hunting in wide open spaces, which they rarely stayed in. Other than that, the only thing he knew about boomerangs is that they hurt. He had never asked where Sokka got his.

The other thing Zuko noticed, in amongst a mess of furs and blankets, was a charcoal portrait that had been sketched on a scroll and coated in a resin to preserve it.

It was a family portrait, eerily reminiscent of the ones in the halls of the palace back home. Hakoda sat on a chair with a woman behind him, her hand on his shoulder. A young Sokka, maybe only four years old, was sat on Hakoda’s knee – no doubt because it was the easiest position to restrain him in for enough time to sketch the portrait – and standing by the woman’s feet was a toddler he recognized as a young Katara. They were all smiling, even that was evident in the sketch.

Katara appeared from whichever off-set she had been in, now adorning a thicker coat (Zuko _knew_ she must have been cold!), and made a small huff of annoyance.

“Are you kidding me, did he really leave that out?” she cried out, coming forward to gently take the portrait from Zuko’s hands. “Sokka has a problem with leaving things everywhere…”

Katara huffed again, gesturing to the mess on the floor, “…in case you hadn’t noticed.”

Zuko just smiled.

“It’s a beautiful picture,” he offered. Katara appreciated his sentiment and ran a finger over the picture.

“It is,” she hummed. “It’s nice to have something to look back on. Before everything changed, you know?”

Zuko knew. Very well.

The prince had a million questions but knew that it wasn’t the time for he and Katara to have their _third_ heart-to-heart about her mother’s death, so he let Katara lead him through the village.

Zuko met Kallik and Ahnah first, who were not present the day he invaded the village because Ahnah was sickly in a far-off tent being tended to and Kallik was only a baby at the time. It was a nice start, and Zuko reminded himself to thank Katara for starting off easy, because Kallik and Ahnah were followed by four very angry, _very big_ Water Tribe warriors who had some ‘questions’ for the Fire Nation prince about why he felt it was okay to interrogate their wives in his last visit, followed by Tanaraq who gave Zuko the stink eye, followed by five more women who acted polite but stood a couple feet away at all times, followed by six young children who asked _many_ questions about his scar, followed by Nanouk who was the village tanner and leatherworker who Zuko thought was pretty alright until he asked if Zuko and Katara were planning on getting engaged soon, followed by pointing out all of the public buildings (very few) and eventually circling back to Katara and Sokka’s home.

Zuko nearly tripped trying to get into the house when Katara offered him a cup of tea and a warm meal to rest for a bit.

“Do you think the other two will be back soon?” Zuko asked as he watched Katara move around the kitchen area.

Katara – mid-shrug – stopped suddenly and observed the flint in her hands, then looked back up at Zuko.

“Boil the kettle for me?” she asked, saccharine sweet, holding out the rounded tin. Zuko rolled his eyes and held back a sly quip about being more than a piece of coal they could light up whenever they wanted. He boiled the kettle.

“Honestly, I don’t know,” she smirked. “Sokka’s always eager to run around inland, always has been, and he likes being the one with all the knowledge. And Aang has been pestering me for weeks about stopping and observing the natural order of the places we’ve been visiting. They could get cold and bored in a few minutes, or they could be there all day.”

Zuko had a fond look on his face as he thought of them both huddled behind a hill of ice watching snow-rats. That would be the kind of thing that could entice them, and Katara was right, there was absolutely no telling how long that fixation would last.

“How are you and Aang doing anyway?”

He meant with the whole ‘bringing peace to the world’ thing, but Katara and Zuko both heard the underlying, more personal meaning. Katara decided to focus on that one.

“I think I really love him,” she said softly. “I thought I loved him before, and I did, but it’s different now. It’s weird… it’s so unconditional. He’s just a part of my life now. And, no matter how much we frustrate each other, I still just want him to be happy…”

Katara set the tea down gently on a table on the other end of the room, a table which was sat on a thick rug (in turn, sat on another thick rug), and pulled out what appeared to be thin cushions from a chest and placed them either side of the table.

Zuko smiled, hoping that her feelings stayed. He liked Aang and Katara together, they evened each other out and supported one another as well.

“You’re patient with him,” he said quietly, taking the tea and giving Katara a cautious look, “And if I’m honest he’s the only person I’ve ever seen you _actually_ be patient with.”

Katara blurted out a short sound like she wanted to retort, coughing out a laugh at Zuko’s audacity.

“Tell me I’m wrong!” the firebender defended himself before she could even throw her verbal daggers, but Katara wasn’t going to fight this time. She tried to hide a grin and stubbornly sipped at the tea, waterbending the temperature of the tea so that it didn’t scald her tongue.

They sat in a comfortable silence, a pot of broth boiling in the background and slowly cooking a stew that Zuko was pretty sure had been simmering when they were here earlier as well.

When Katara opened her mouth next, she asked about the palace, and they quickly began chatting about random topics, like how the flowers bloom so beautifully in the rural parts of the Fire Nation, or how at just the right time of year you can see certain constellations from the North Pole that are usually invisible.

It didn’t take long for Zuko to ask about Sokka, and he wanted to be ashamed of himself but he wasn’t. Curiosity had overcome his worry that Katara would give him any grief. Besides, she didn’t know anything about his past with Sokka, so for all she knew he was just asking questions about her brother to get some funny anecdotes or usable dirt.

“You know,” Katara pushed the hair out of her face, “Sokka’s changed. Not just since we left here, and everything that we went through, but he’s changed since you guys became friends.”

Zuko nearly choked on his tea.

“In what way?”

Katara snorted and smiled into her cup.

“You know the silly little proverb about the two wolves inside of you, good and evil, and whichever you feed is the one that grows strongest?” she began slowly.

“Yeah, that’s a Water Tribe proverb that Uncle quotes all the time.”

Katara lifted a finger and quickly pointed out that it was not, in fact, a Water Tribe proverb, but they could circle back to that later and discuss the way that the Fire Nation re-wrote history another time.

“Sokka’s wolves weren’t good and evil, more like order and chaos,” she began to explain. “One wolf is energetic and fun-seeking, and will run around exploring and jumping and doing whatever he wants with no regard for the consequence. That’s the one that drinks water from a random cactus in the desert, and licks the sap leaking from the walls of a cave, and runs off in the middle of a storm to help a fisherman. The other wolf is controlling and neurotic and only steps forward once he’s seriously considered every possible consequence.”

Katara waved her hand. “When our mom died, Sokka only fed the wolf of order. That was who he was, my whole life. He was still funny and caring and could mess around, but every decision he made was weighed with over-thinking. Most of the time it was fine, and it helped us in a lot of potentially sticky situations but sometimes it was torture.”

She quickly rushed to recover what she said, “I mean, I love him, but-”

“Katara, you don’t need to explain yourself,” Zuko chuckled, “I understand that siblings can be torture.”

She snickered, nodding, and continued.

“When you and Sokka told me you guys went to the Boiling Rock, I thought, ‘that had to be Zuko’s plan, he’s really good at breaking into places, he’s super impulsive and would absolutely do something dumb like that’.”

“Hey!”

“But it was Sokka’s idea,” she pressed on, ignoring him, “And since then, he’s still been neurotic, but just a little less. Sometimes he lets go, just reacts instead of overthinking. It’s nice to see.”

Zuko opened his mouth, but was very rudely cut off by the man in question.

“Hello!” Sokka threw the covers to the entryway open, “I could smell the soup cooking so I assumed someone was home.”

Aang followed in behind him, chattering (to himself?) about all of the animals they had seen on their trip out. Zuko saw the look in Katara’s eyes change as her focus shifted to Aang, her face softening as she began to intently listen.

“You seeing this oogie shit?” Sokka stole the words right out of Zuko’s mouth, and neither Aang nor Katara noticed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i wrote the interaction between katara and zuko ages ago and found out two days ago that the 'wolf you feed' metaphor was created by american colonisers to shut up the native americans they were colonising and it made me VERY SAD


	4. PART II

Hakoda took Sokka on a fishing trip to break the news because he knew this wasn’t going to be easy.

_‘Hey, you know how you were chased for the better half of a year by an angry firebender who was hell-bent on killing you to get to the Avatar, then you guys teamed up and became friends while saving the world? Yeah, you have to marry him now, have fun.’_

That sounded _fantastic_ , Hakoda mused. Exactly what his son wanted to hear.

Hakoda watched his son’s face as they sat peacefully out on the open sea. He had a little grin, contented and joyful, as he bobbed the line up and down. The ice box between them had a couple fish in it now, which the chief had decided was his sign to finally break the news.

Hakoda sighed, feeling the heavy weight on his chest.

He didn’t want to ruin the moment, but he had to tell him at some point.

“So…” Hakoda cleared his throat, catching Sokka’s attention. The young man looked up at him, a little curious, and waited expectantly. Shit.

“I have to tell you something, and you won’t like it,” Hakoda began. He watched his son mentally freak out, and to Sokka’s credit, he kept his face neutral, but Hakoda knew that face. Sokka looked unnervingly like his mother the older he got, and Hakoda could see the whirlpool of questions behind his eyes, just like Kya’s used to be when she got anxious.

“I… I have spoken with Firelord Iroh, and we were discussing the relationship between the nations since the end of the war…” Hakoda looked down at his hands. “We think that, with the anniversary of the call of peace, we should have a sign of the togetherness of the nations.”

Sokka took a breath in and reeled his line in, unsure where the conversation was going but he could tell from his father’s demeanor that he wouldn’t enjoy the end of this tangent.

“So,” the chief continued, “We discussed, and thought that a good symbol of togetherness would be an inter-nation… marriage.”

Sokka’s brows drew together. “Excuse me?”

“But, uh… there are no children of the Earth Kingdom royalty yet, and uh-”

“If you marry Katara off to Zuko she will actually run away and go into hiding, you know that right?” Sokka interjected. “That’s not funny-haha-exaggeration, she _will_ leave and never come back.”

Hakoda nodded, holding up a hand. “I’m not marrying Katara off to Zuko.”

Sokka frowned and opened his mouth to ask who his dad was marrying Katara off to when an awful-bad-terrible thought crossed his mind.

“Dad-”

“We thought that our two eldest-”

“Are you _marrying me off??”_

“You know, because you guys already know each other-”

“To _Zuko?!”_

The day the comet came, when he and Zuko had ended it, Sokka had felt a cold, crushing weight on his chest. Now, he felt that same weight come back and settle in again like a familiar foe.

Sokka was steaming. He could feel his heart beat in every inch of his skin, his breathing was erratic and harsh, his arms were crossed over his body and his shoulders were so hunched Hakoda thought his neck might fully disappear. His eyes were fixed on the ocean – rage, fury, and maybe a little bit of hurt swirling behind them.

“Take us back to the village,” Sokka snapped. “I can’t look at you.”

Hakoda took the weight of the words onto his chest and the lump in his throat, but understood. He took the oars and rowed them back.

~*~

When Hakoda had been told, he was about Sokka’s age as well. _For the good of the tribe_.

Kya’s grandparents had all been waterbenders, and Hakoda’s mother had been a master healer before the most recent raid had killed her. They determined that it was best to try and pair up those who had waterbender ancestry to marry, and that maybe they could bring waterbending back to the South Pole.

Hakoda loved Kya, truly, but not like that. Never like that. It was his duty to marry Kya, not his want. And he knew she felt the same. He was rough and adventurous and couldn’t sit still, and she was gentle and unmoving, fully sure of who she was and where she should be. She was an anchor, and he was a buoy. They loved that about each other, but couldn’t love each other for it.

He never had the heart to tell his children that he and Kya were an arranged marriage. He thought that by the time they were old enough and they were getting married themselves that maybe Kya would bring it up, because she was so good with words. She knew how to say awful things in okay ways, like “Hakoda, I’m pregnant with your child,” and somehow he didn’t puke when he heard it.

When Kya was killed, a part of Hakoda died with her. Maybe they didn’t have a ‘true love’ like he thought marriage was for, but they had spent so many years working as a shared unit, and he knew every part of her. He wasn’t ready for their children in the first place, he certainly wasn’t ready to be their sole parent, and he definitely wasn’t ready to even try and handle it while dealing with the grief of losing his best friend.

He sat over Kya’s body for hours hoping she would miraculously wake up and say it was going to be okay. His mother-in-law had to pull him off her and throw his catatonic body into another room so that they could clear Kya away and clean the house.

Hakoda tried, for years, to be a good parent. But he couldn’t ever live up to it. He couldn’t calm Katara’s tears with soft words like his wife had been able to, he couldn’t keep Sokka focused with a single point of his finger like she had. It was her job to be a mother, and it was his job to be a chief. That was their dynamic, and that worked.

He didn’t realise at the time the destruction his decision to leave to fight in the war would cause their little family. He spent the first night out on the sea in a constant state of tears, racked with the guilt of seeing his son in war-paint and leaving him at the shore. He loved them so, _so_ much, and he had no idea what he was meant to do with them.

They seemed to come out pretty okay, maybe with some lasting effects of trauma – but it was a war, and their mother was murdered, so that was sort of expected.

Hakoda had vowed, when they re-joined, to be a better father. He was older now, and had been a chief for longer, and had been at war for years. He had learnt, and he had missed them so dearly. He vowed to do better, and say better.

Nothing really prepared him, though, for the feeling he got when his son said, “I can’t look at you.”

But he understood.

After all, when his own father had announced that Hakoda’s marriage had been arranged, he was seventeen, and he said the exact same thing.

~*~

Iroh, with a heavy heart, held on to the knowledge of his discussion with Chief Hakoda until they reached the Fire Nation once more.

He let Zuko settle in for a day, then called for a servant to bring his nephew to his personal chambers.

The pot of tea was steaming by his right side, and Iroh had carefully set up a pai sho table, with Zuko’s favourite cushion across from him.

Iroh folded his hands and took a moment to centre his energy and steady his breaths. He was half-expecting to be challenged to an Agni Kai, once this conversation was over.

There was a soft knock on the chamber doors, and a low voice called out, “Prince Zuko, for Firelord Iroh.”

Iroh smiled, and waved Zuko in, quietly ordering the staff to leave them in peace, and leave the doors alone.

“I know it is tempting to eavesdrop,” he smiled, “But today I would like to talk to my nephew in private, mm?”

The servant nodded and bowed, and passed the message on to the guards outside the door.

Zuko, still stood in the middle of the room, watched this with curiosity and a growing sense of dread.

“You wanted to speak with me, Uncle?” he asked tentatively, stepping forward. Iroh gestured to the cushion across from him and waited until Zuko sat to pour him a tea.

Jasmine. Zuko’s favourite.

“I have news for you,” the old man got straight to the point, “And if I am honest, I don’t think you will like it. I want you to be comfortable, and without the extra ears outside the door.”

Iroh gestured to the table, about to ask Zuko to play, but the young prince silenced him with a look. He did not want to play pai sho. Iroh nodded.

“While talking with Chief Hakoda, we discussed creating a symbol of unity between the Four Nations,” Iroh began, sipping his tea. “You are a smart boy, and you know that politics is often hard. You also know that you were always going to have an arranged marriage, I assume?”

Zuko swallowed thickly, unable to respond.

Iroh nodded and continued. “I am sure you are already putting the pieces together, and realizing that an inter-nation wedding will have to be between one of the Water Tribes and the Fire Nation. Chief Arnook has already married off his youngest child, and was reluctant to even speak to me through letter. I believe that the Northern Water Tribe will not be our friend for a few more years yet.”

Iroh settled his cup down and sighed.

“Hakoda and I know that you are the best person to be married in an arrangement such as this. You are a strong man, and have grown so much. You will be a great and strong Firelord someday, and well,” the old man gave a little chuckle, “You’re kind of the only option for the Fire Nation.”

Zuko didn’t have the strength to roll his eyes, he was trying too hard to hold down the nausea taking over his whole body.

“We also both know that Katara is much too headstrong to agree to anyone other than the Avatar at the moment, and that she and Aang appear to be doing great and busy work helping the nations finally let go of the war. So, Chief Hakoda and I-”

Zuko stood and promptly left the room, slamming the chamber doors behind him.

~*~

Long after the sun had gone down, the third knock of the night came to Zuko’s door. He had been ignoring all of them, and this was no different. The knock startled him from his thoughts, and he promptly turned away from the door and continued breathing fire out over his hands.

There was a scuffling sound, and Zuko turned.

A piece of paper was pushed under the door.

_‘Chief Hakoda has sent a notice that he and Sokka will be travelling to the Fire Nation to discuss the arrangement. They will arrive in three weeks’ time._

_I am sorry, Prince Zuko._

_I love you.’_

Iroh could hear Zuko kicking at the walls and screaming, and the distinct banging sounds of furniture hitting the walls and floor.


	5. PART III

When Sokka steps out of the palanquin and walks up the stairs to where Zuko and Iroh are standing, he feels shaky and sick. He didn’t want to be married to his _friend_ – Zuko might even be his _best_ friend, other than Suki. And maybe Boomerang.

If they marry, they have to have a _wedding_ , where they _kiss_ , and then afterwards have to _consummate_ that marriage, probably to a witness knowing the ridiculous Fire Nation traditions and rules.

And all that he could think about, like a nightmare looping over and over in front of his eyes, was Zuko’s dumb face when he had said to Sokka a year ago, _“I think it’s best that this ends.”_

The entire trip over had been a torturous series of flashbacks. Every wave that crashed-

_“Between us, whatever it is, we should stop.”_

Every cold draft that ran through the lower chambers-

_“If we’re both alive at the end of today, I think it’s best that we don’t…”_

Every time he closed his eyes he saw that _look_ , that awful look that crossed Zuko’s face when the words had slipped out of his stupid, jerkbender mouth-

_“I love you.”_

And every time Sokka tried to go to sleep he heard Zuko’s voice-

_“Forget I said that.”_

Each step Sokka took felt like a hammer hitting him on the head. He could barely lift his face, after spending three weeks overcome with all of the feelings he had successfully pushed all the way down for all of this time. He had Zuko had _reconciled_ , they had _sorted it out_ , they agreed to be _friends_ again, to be _civil_ , and now it felt like all of that reconciliation had swum down the drain.

Hakoda and Iroh greeted each other, just as warmly as a couple months ago when they were in the South Pole, while Sokka and Zuko awkwardly stood next to them – still tall and polite, but not at all comfortable. How could they greet each other like old friends? With all of their emotions and history that had been simmering between them, now resurfaced and turned up to a full boil while their carers discussed legally binding them to be wed to each other for life.

And the thing Sokka couldn’t get over was that no one had even mentioned the political repercussions of this. Technically it went unspoken that Sokka would become Zuko’s husband and join him in the Fire Nation for when he eventually took place as Firelord – Zuko was not going to become Sokka’s husband and reside in the South Pole. But no one really seemed to care enough to ask Sokka if he was okay with that.

Sokka looked up and noticed that Hakoda had been asking him a question, something about meeting to discuss the intricacies and implications of the wedding. Sokka wasn’t speaking to his dad, anyway, so he remained silent.

Iroh cleared his throat.

“Perhaps it would be best for you two to have a chat,” he said to Sokka and Zuko, “While Chief Hakoda and I get ready for our meeting.”

Sokka steeled himself to put on a brave front and finally raised his head to look up, immediately meeting Zuko’s eyes.

The two older men left, Hakoda taking in the image of the palace gardens to the left of them with a hint of awe. It was hard to not be impressed by the Fire Nation palace, that was something Sokka couldn’t deny.

Zuko sighed sharply and gestured to Sokka’s left, leading them both into the royal gardens. The young couple, newly betrothed, walked in silence for at least five minutes, though it felt like eternity. Sokka followed Zuko, hopelessly lost in the labyrinth of fountains and snapdragons.

“Are you okay?” Zuko asked, voice soft as a whisper, like he was scared to bring up the elephant-mandrill in the room (garden).

“Fantastic,” was Sokka’s instant response before he could stop himself. Sokka caught a glimpse of Zuko’s face and a little part of him broke. He hated that Zuko could do that, could make these faces without even realizing, faces that looked like a kicked polar dog puppy and the only thing Sokka hated even more was that Zuko’s faces _worked_ on him.

“I’m sorry,” he mumbled. “This sucks.”

Zuko was quiet for a moment, then scoffed, then nodded. “This does kind of suck.”

Sokka chuckled under his breath, more of a smile and a huff through his nostrils than anything else, and they fell into silence again, maybe a fraction more comfortable than before. Sokka still felt like his skin was crawling, trying to keep all of his flashbacks contained within him.

Sokka stopped walking, sighed, and flopped down backwards onto the grass beneath them, arms spread wide.

Zuko smirked. “Better weather down there?”

Sokka smirked, shielding his eyes from the sun.

“Better view.”

It’s only then that Zuko noticed he was standing nearly directly over Sokka’s head, his rear end right in the young warrior’s line of sight.

Zuko blushed darkly and scrambled to sit down by Sokka’s head, royal robes swallowing his frame wherever they bunched up.

“That’s not funny,” Zuko grumbled, and Sokka sighed, arm resting against his chest.

“It would have been, if-…” Sokka stumbled, mouth clamping shut, teeth clacking.

“If we weren’t forcibly engaged?” Zuko provided, flopping down to lay on the grass next to him.

They lay in silence. What was there to say?

_Hey, now that we’re involuntarily engaged would you like to expose your soul and discuss our break up, how we were barely even together before you broke us up but I still have intense feelings about the whole endeavour, our consequent inability to keep our hands off each other, your issues with commitment, and in general how shitty we feel about the whole situation?_

Not likely.

Sokka let his face turn and took in the details of Zuko’s scar.

All the time they’d spent together, he’d never looked at it properly. He had always wondered how it had gotten there. Training accident, he assumed, or a product of war, maybe. Sokka had watched Zuko fight – had fought Zuko himself – and knew he was too good for it to be an accident during a battle. He assumed it had happened when Zuko was younger, less well trained, didn’t dodge quick enough.

“You know, no matter how long you stare at my scar, it won’t start talking,” Zuko spoke, spooking Sokka.

“Yeah, but you will,” Sokka recovered, “that’s close enough.”

“What do you want me to say?” Zuko sighed, flinging his robed arm back over his face, blocking the harsh sunlight from his eyes.

Sokka sat up again, playing with the blades of grass.

“You can say, ‘Don’t worry, Sokka, this was all a poorly planned prank!’?” Sokka looked over at Zuko, almost a little hopeful and Zuko would actually admit to it being an awful prank.

The prince just looked at him, silently, instead. Sokka let his eyes close.

“I don’t know what I want you to say,” he admitted. “This is just weird.”

Zuko silently contemplated putting his hand over Sokka’s, and shoved his hands into his lap to stop himself from giving in to the temptation.

“Azula’s allowed to have visitors now,” is what Zuko said instead, out of nowhere, and Sokka sat up.

At first, his shock was at the sudden change of conversation, but as Sokka processed the words he found himself falling into the shock of thinking about Azula at all.

He hadn’t really taken the time to actually process that Azula, the crazy fourteen-year-old with the power of an army who came very close to killing him at least once and actually succeeded in killing Aang, was Zuko’s sister. They had grown up together, eaten meals together, they shared parents, Iroh was Azula’s uncle. It was obvious when they stood together that they were related, but Sokka hadn’t sat down to think about the fact that their lives were intertwined like that.

He couldn’t imagine if it was him and Katara in that position, fighting in a final showdown with death as the intended outcome. Katara being imprisoned in a mental facility indefinitely.

“How is she?” he found himself asking.

Zuko shrugged one shoulder. “Technically better, if she’s allowed visitors, but she’s still pretty angry.”

Sokka nearly laughed. Zuko referred to his sister’s homicidal tendencies as ‘anger’. It was almost adorable if it weren’t overwhelmingly sad to think about Zuko’s family at all.

Sokka realized with a start that he was about to become a part of that family.

Maybe they should talk about things. If Sokka was going to keep distracting himself and then inevitably running into the brick wall of ‘I am going to be marrying my ex-boyfriend and we are both trying to pretend we were never involved’, maybe they should address that brick wall?

The thought made him feel like his veins were full of ice and his stomach was made of stone, but Katara had been trying to convince him that talking about his feelings could help sometimes.

Sokka stepped over the verbal precipice before he could talk himself out of it.

“So,” he swallowed, “Should we discuss what… what you want to do about… us? Now that we’re engaged?”

Zuko was deathly still and eerily quiet, not even reacting to what Sokka had said. Sokka, twiddling his thumbs, waited for so long that he nearly stood up to wander the gardens and leave Zuko to think about it, but his plans were interrupted by Zuko’s soft, raspy voice.

“Maybe,” Zuko sat up slowly, rubbing and hand over his face.

“Zuko, if you don’t want to then we don’t have to talk about it-” Sokka was interrupted by a palace guard approaching them and bowing to the prince.

“Prince Zuko. Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe,” the guard nodded to both of them. “Firelord Iroh and Chief Hakoda have requested your presence in the war r- the, uh, the council meeting hall.”

Zuko, sitting up now, nodded and thanked the man, who promptly ran off before he could be chastised about accidently saying ‘war room’. Like Zuko would ever chastise for that anyway, Sokka knew for a fact that Zuko said the same thing when they were at the South Pole only a short while ago.

~*~

The meeting was awkward to endure.

The two families sat together with the purpose of discussing how they were going to orchestrate the wedding between two people who didn’t want to be wed, and those two people were sat in the room with them, and were expected to help out in the planning.

Hakoda suggested that to get on the same page that they should each provide a basic run down of each nation’s wedding traditions and then discuss where to compromise.

Sokka had to stop himself from snorting. ‘Compromise’. He felt like he might as well just have a Fire Nation wedding and get it over with, but he knew that Zuko would probably die of guilt if they ever actually did that and Sokka couldn’t handle the stress of Zuko dying right after they got married.

What a PR nightmare.

Iroh began by clarifying that Fire Nation weddings are more than a single-day affair.

He explained that the bride and groom have separate weekends of preparation in the days leading up to the wedding, and must remain separated all up until the ceremony where they are presented to each other. During these weekends, they have trusted advisors, family and friends stay with them as they are bathed, scrubbed, moisturized, made up, and fed well for the whole weekend before the ceremony. It is custom for the closest friends and family to wish the bride and groom well in this time, and give them advice for their marriage.

The day of the wedding of a royal family member, and the two days following, are considered public holidays for the whole nation, and though not everyone takes the day off (shop vendors, and guards for instance), all who wish to are welcome to flock to Caldera City for the ceremony. The ceremony itself begins at midday when the sun is highest, where the bride and groom are presented by a close friend or family member of their choice – other than parent. The bride and groom both wear special robes, traditionally of black and gold.

They kneel together on a ceremonial rug, one that is hand-stitched to represent the two of them and their marriage. An officiant, a powerful firebender, encases them in a ring of flames on the rug, and they join hands while vows are stated. The officiant then asks the spirits to bless the groom and the union, and feeds him mulled honey wine, then asks the same blessing for the bride and feeds her the honey wine.

They are declared married under the sun, and then the festivities begin.

The first tradition is for the couple to go through each member of the ceremonial procession and thank them together. Then, the couple will walk through the city center, and let the citizens throw red flowers onto the path, so that they walk on the flowers instead of the ground, presenting their new marriage to their nation. After this procession, they are taken back to the palace where in the main ballroom, the bride and groom will sit in the center, and have gifts bestowed upon them by friends and family.

(Iroh quickly insisted here that Sokka and Zuko should learn the traditional wedding dance of the Fire Nation’s people, one which was unlearnt years ago after Azulon felt embarrassed by his own awful dancing.)

During this dance, guests throw colourful red dust upon the couple, clapping and cheering them on. Then, as the party begins, it is customary for the bride and groom to thank each person for attending, and wait for everyone to leave, before finally getting a couple hours of sleep.

They then start the next morning-

“Wait,” Hakoda jumped in. “What about the consummation?”

Zuko’s eyebrow furrowed. “What consummation?”

“The consummation!” Sokka cried out, pent up tension and anxiety about the whole ordeal leaping out of his throat like an unleashed rabbiroo. “The _sex_ , to consummate the marriage, to make it viable! I would have assumed the Fire Nation would have a special procession for that too, or specific witnesses involved.”

Zuko was quiet, and almost confused. Iroh chuckled deeply in his throat, deciding to intervene.

“Honestly, most Fire Nation weddings finish in the early hours of the morning, and there are more wedding festivities that begin at dawn the next morning, so there’s not much time. Besides, asking for the sun to bless the marriage, and the wine, is what makes the Fire Nation wedding viable.”

Iroh smiled softly and offered Hakoda a new cup of fresh tea. “I think it best we come together to discuss consummation at a later date, though. I fear it is not the time or place for us old men to decide _that_ part of the wedding.”

Iroh continued explaining, and Sokka would be lying if he said he was paying his full attention. Mostly, he was trying to wrap his head around the whole ‘consummation’ talk that inevitably they were going to have to have (with his _father_ present, yuck) because the Water Tribe _did_ see it as a necessary part of the wedding night.

Regardless of Sokka’s attention span, Iroh explained that the next morning at dawn, the bride and groom are to have a morning tea party with their close family and friends; which is essentially a second, closer wedding reception where they drink tea and eat pastries. Only after this morning tea are the bride and groom left alone, or sometimes leave on vacation, for a honeymoon.

“From what I understand from my travels, and please correct me, Chief Hakoda,” Iroh gestured, “Is that for the people of the Water Tribe, the honeymoon symbolizes consummation, that is its purpose. But, for the royal family members of the Fire Nation, the honeymoon is mostly about allowing these two, newly married, esteemed members of nobility to be able to take a break from their lives of politics and prying eyes to be with one another, before coming back to daily life.”

“It is not uncommon,” Iroh sipped his tea, “For Fire Nation nobility to take an annual ‘honeymoon’ on their anniversary, as a reminder to take time for each other and care for each other.”

This was curious to Hakoda, who engaged Iroh in an in-depth conversation about the inherent meaning of marriage, and how the two cultures see the meaning of marriage so differently, even in their highest ranks. Sokka watched Zuko’s eyes dart more than usual as Hakoda discussed what would happen if two people eventually fell out of love, if they were still expected to go on leave for their anniversary, if gossip would circulate or if it was an understood thing that love sometimes fell apart.

“Marriage isn’t about love,” Zuko insisted, breaking his silence.

He had the attention of the table now, and it clearly shook him a bit, but he continued nonetheless.

“It’s about respect. You can’t expect two people to mature at the same rate in the same direction their whole lives. We might grow apart, we might not even still be friends when we’re older, but Sokka will still be my husband.”

A shiver ran up Sokka’s spine. Zuko was looking him directly in the eye.

“At our wedding I will vow to take care of you and your family. It doesn’t matter if we love each other, I will keep that vow.”

Sokka heard it. Sokka heard the message Zuko had snuck into his words, a promise just for the two of them. _If we get back together, fall in love again, and break up – I will still take care of you_.

“Excuse me, I-” Sokka stood, feeling ill. “I have to go.”

The three other men watched him leave, and Iroh waited for Zuko to follow, but he didn’t. Zuko instead stared at the table in front of him.

Iroh called the discussion to a close and offered to meet again the next day. He suggested that it had been a long day already, and that Sokka was no doubt feeling overwhelmed.

Zuko barely heard any of it, vision still fixed at the same spot on the table.

~*~

The next day they met early in the morning to continue their meeting from yesterday. This time, Iroh had requested to meet in one of the more personal tea-rooms, closer together around a circular table.

Sokka and Zuko were the first to arrive, and neither of them had much strength to say anything.

It was an unexpected and completely alien feeling, to have to be married to your best friend. They hadn’t gotten the chance to speak since their time in the garden, but Sokka didn’t particularly feel like discussing their relationship anyway.

Zuko’s words from yesterday kept rattling around in his brain, over and over, they had kept him up all night.

_‘Sokka will still be my husband.’_

What a completely other-worldly concept, to be Zuko’s husband. _Husband_ was a word that described someone you cherished, loved deeply, and built a life or a family with. Sokka felt like someone had proposed a question to him and he hadn’t even gotten the chance to answer before the decision was made for him. Now, suddenly, they were discussing the wedding – the _wedding_ , there was going to be a _wedding_ , and probably _soon_.

It felt like so much to hold, and the one person he really wanted to share this stress with was also the person he was being forced to marry and was too awkward to really talk around right now.

Maybe he could convince Suki to make an excursion to the Fire Nation.

Iroh and Hakoda arrived suddenly, already engaged in conversation, and it only took a moment for Hakoda to eagerly begin relaying the traditional customs of Water Tribe weddings.

Rather than a presentation, in the South Pole, the bride, groom and officiant gather at the precipice of a glacier or some other high point at sunset – the couple kneeling towards each other and officiant between them – and guests arrive, greeting them before sitting in a circle around them.

The couple wear special wedding coats, completely white. Usually the coats are made entirely of fleece, bleached leather, and fur, with intricate embroidery in the stitches. They wear whatever they want underneath, but must wear the coats, which like other Southern anoraks, go below the knee so that they can kneel in the snow.

They kneel over a seal-skin mat with knees touching, hands clasped and foreheads pressed together while the officiant reads their names and titles. In the Northern Water Tribe, the father of the bride has to announce that he is verbally consenting to hand his daughter over, but Hakoda notes that there is no bride at this wedding and that he finds that part of the Northern customs to be quite upsetting so they don’t have to worry about it.

The ceremony begins at dusk, the officiant will read a short statement about each of them-

“Such as, ‘Sokka, your strength is mesmerizing and will carry you through this marriage to a crazy hothead’-”

“Sokka!”

-and let anyone from the tribe object to their union together. If there is no objection, they are blessed under the moon and water spirits, and the officiant dabs some drops of water from the ocean on their foreheads. They then kiss as a symbol of the ceremony ending. The tribe’s elders start the march back to the village, with a special dance and chant, and the couple’s friends or strongest members of the tribe carry them on their shoulders back to the village while everyone chants.

The village celebrates around the fire with food and wine, and elders rub dried algae against the bride and groom’s heads as they give them their blessing and well-wishes. The couple are then ushered to retire to the ceremonial tent, which decked with food and drink in iceboxes for the next morning, and with rugs and furs and blankets, and is furthest from the village.

The party continues while the bride and groom consummate, and the next morning their fathers are expected to go into the tent and present the naked couple (covered in blankets for dignity) to the village as a confirmation that they made their marriage viable.

Other than this presentation, it is expected that the couple spend their entire first day of marriage in bed together or hanging around each other.

“So, between the two cultures, there is some overlap we could work with,” Hakoda began optimistically, “As well as, of course, compromises to discuss.”

“Apologies, Firelord Iroh,” a voice came from the door, an advisor bowing in the entryway, “I have been asked to retrieve you urgently, for a matter in the… kitchen…”

Iroh stood, smiling, “Well, if it is in the kitchen, it must be an emergency.”

Hakoda excused himself also, to try and acquire some food and something to drink other than tea. He noted that he had brought paper to jot ideas onto but had left it in his room, and intended to bring some of it back before Iroh arrived, so that they could really get started with the wedding planning.

Sokka couldn’t bear the silence that filled the room after they had both left, so he continued where his dad had left off.

“During the war, a lot of those traditions got left out. We had ten marriages in one month, one time, so there wasn’t as much dancing, and there weren’t enough resources to make ceremonial clothes. After the third marriage that month, we stopped presenting the naked couple,” Sokka picked his fingernails.

Zuko was looking down at the table again, but he made a little breathy sound, the hushed but sharp intake before words are pushed out, so Sokka waited until Zuko spoke. In the meantime he distracted himself by trying to imagine the ‘emergency’ in the kitchen, mostly theorizing that Iroh had asked for a certain dish and had instructed to be called for an emergency when it was ready.

“When...” Zuko took in a deep breath to strengthen himself, and Sokka tuned back in. “When I attacked your village, that day... was that really the whole village?”

Sokka looked at him, a quiet between them, then nodded.

“I wasn't old enough, or wasn’t born, really, for the raids. But most of our tribe was lost to the Southern Raiders, and then when I was little all the men left for the war, including my dad. There were women and children left behind and... well, and me and Katara. I was only just that little too young to go with them, but I was at least ten years older than any of the other boys in the tribe. All the weddings, remember? Babies followed, mostly as an attempt to keep the village populated after the raids.”

Zuko looked at his hands.

“It was the smallest village I had ever seen,” he admitted. “I had heard stories of the valiant fights the Southern Water Tribe had put up, and was expecting a bit of a crowd.”

Sokka smirked, huffing out a small laugh.

“Nope,” he stretched his arms. “That’s one of the reasons I think Dad promised me to you, you know? I can't stand being in such a tiny place again.”

Zuko looked shocked for a second, and Sokka backtracked.

“Don’t get me wrong, I love it!” he sighed. “Most of me doesn’t want to ever leave, and I know it’s growing now with the war over and our soldiers back, but... it’s so tiny. There’s like, thirty people. And there’s nothing but ice and penguins.”

Sokka picked at his fingernails.

“Before I left, it was all I needed. I loved it there, I still love it there, its _home_. But...”

Zuko smirked, finishing Sokka’s sentence for him, “But, you flew around the world with the Avatar for a year? And visited every single country and province and realized you love land-mammal meat, and markets-”

“And _tropical_ _weather_ ,” Sokka finished, moaning. “Man, I loved going to Ember Island! This dumb volcano you call home killed it for me the most. Dad could make the South Pole the biggest city on earth to try and entice me back but _you_ , Zuko, and your people, have made me hate the cold weather.”

Zuko chuckled.

“I get it…” he whispered. Because he did. All the fanciness of the Royal Palace startled him, when he came back with Azula all that time ago, and still felt off even now. He had spent so long on ships, in huts, in little apartments in Ba Sing Se where he shared a room with his snoring uncle, it made it hard to sleep in silk sheets in a big empty room in such a humid environment. Being away could make you hate home.

“Don’t forget, if I stayed in the South Pole, the only person from that tribe in my age range is my sister,” Sokka laughed. “Any future wife or husband will be, like, thirteen years younger than me.”

“Or older,” Zuko laughed, “Maybe Bato would take care of you.”

Sokka cried out in disgust, nearly covering the sound of Zuko’s laughter.


	6. PART IV

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> it's about to get Angsty.
> 
> quick note! i’m a sucker for the trope that the four nations have different languages and dialects but my personal headcanon is that it’s similar to scandanavian languages where there are enough similarities and overlap that they can mostly understand one another when speaking their own languages, and also that most people are raised bilingual or multilingual depending on how often they interact with people from the other nations. the water tribes have a different language to the earth kingdom, air nomads and fire nations, but i am a very lazy writer and didn’t want to develop this too much in case it muddled with the plot or i got something horribly wrong and offended people.
> 
> TL;DR: the four nations have slightly different languages and dialects, just imagine they’re speaking a relatively universal language but have different accents (especially the water tribe kids) based on which dialect they grew up with.

Winter in the Fire Nation had arrived, and it nearly killed Sokka to admit it that it was kind of beautiful.

It wasn’t like winter anywhere else that they had travelled, and it certainly wasn’t anything like winter in the South Pole, but it still felt like winter.

The tropical island didn’t have snow like other countries, and Zuko had mentioned once that even when the highest peaks saw snow it wasn’t like the snow Sokka was used to. Fire Nation snow was not only rare, but it was harsh and ugly, more like soft hail than snowflakes.

And if you weren’t on the highest peaks, it was a different experience all together.

Sokka had spent the first two weeks of Fire Nation winter finding himself pressed up against windows and standing outside watching the never-ending flurry of storms and heavy rains that flooded the country. The temperature had dropped, and the air was cold in a new way, a completely different way to the South Pole. The air itself wasn’t colder, but it bit through clothes in a way Sokka had never experienced before, and he felt almost colder here than at home. _Almost_.

Even though they didn’t have snow, each morning the ground was covered in white – a thin but persistent layer of frost that covered everything that could have possibly had dew on it. The guards outside were dressed appropriately for their stationed post out in the cold, and Sokka sometimes got a little mesmerized by watching the steam puff off of their breath, and sometimes he could see the steam roll off the armor of the firebending guards if he looked at them in the right light.

The plant life around them had changed too, adapting to the new state of the weather. The snapdragons and firelilies had gone dormant – something Iroh taught Sokka, and he wasn’t ashamed to admit that he listened with wide-eyed wonder to Iroh’s explanation – all curled up on themselves to avoid the frosty air, leaves outstretched to catch the water from the rains. Plants that had definitely been there before but Sokka hadn’t noticed were now stretching out and taking in their years’ worth of water, and would (apparently) flower in the spring.

Sokka had only been in the Fire Nation during the summer, before, and one time in late spring with his dad.

Down in the main city center, cafés selling hot tea and warm meals were bustling through all hours of the day and night, shade-sails set up above the walk-ways for people to rush through while they sought reprieve from the cold. The days were often darkened with storm clouds, but when they weren’t darkened, the light shone through mist and fog that covered the land like a blanket.

Sokka mused to himself that they didn’t need snow with fog like this.

His father joined him down on the shore to welcome winter to the year, and they both welcomed the warmth of the palace with open arms when they returned.

~*~

“I am not advising against it,” Iroh smiles softly as he refilled Hakoda’s cup with hot tea. “All I am giving you is information about our culture, so that you can prepare Sokka accordingly.”

“He _will_ wear white,” Hakoda insisted. “He _will_ wear Water Tribe wedding attire.”

Iroh nodded. “I hope so. I know that he is already wearing a completely different style to your traditional wedding attire due to our hot climate, so I would never ask for him to also sacrifice the colour. But tell him _before_ he greets the nation in white, that it is a colour that symbolizes death and mourning in the Fire Nation.”

Iroh held up a hand as Hakoda opened his mouth.

“I am aware that black – which Zuko will wear – symbolizes death and mourning in Water Tribe culture,” he nodded solemnly. “I think they should still wear their nations’ clothes, I think it is a strong symbol of our cultures coming together, despite how different we are.”

Hakoda took a moment to process Iroh’s words, and smiled.

“You’re... you’re right,” he sipped at the tea. “It is quite nice.”

“The symbolism or the tea?” Iroh chuckled.

~*~

Sokka and Zuko were in a private meeting room, waiting for the legal advisor to arrive and write up the marriage license and other legally binding documents. Usually, Zuko had explained, they had standard pre-written agreement that they would sign on the day of the wedding, but this was a bit of an unprecedented wedding, and as a male heir-apparent had never married another man before, and there hadn’t been an inter-nation marriage for an heir-apparent before either, so there was heir-arranging to organize and stipulations for Water Tribe customs to write into the license.

It was a whole lot of gemsbok-bull-shit if you asked Sokka, but no one asked Sokka.

Zuko had been sitting almost rigidly straight while they were waiting, and Sokka took a moment to realise that Zuko was raised royal.

It was something they hadn’t really considered before, how different Zuko’s upbringing was to the rest of their rag-tag team’s upbringings. Sure, Toph was from a wealthy family in high society, but even she still wasn’t heir to the throne of the entire Earth Kingdom. They had all just taken Zuko as is, and had understood that he was a prince but Sokka hadn’t really contemplated what that meant for his entire life, both before and after meeting them.

It explained away a lot of Zuko’s weirdly formal tendencies, and his less-than-average social skills, and his familiarity with political discussions that made Sokka want to pull his hair out.

It was still weird, though, to watch Zuko naturally assume perfect poise like it was comfortable somehow.

Sokka, rather, had let himself lay across the table they were sitting at, cheek smushed against the polished wood, while they waited for the legal advisor.

“Patient?” Zuko’s eyebrow quirked and Sokka frowned.

“I’ll have you know I’m a very patient person.”

“I see that.”

Sokka pouted.

“Hey, no, you can’t be sarcastic, sarcasm is my thing,” he whined, and caught Zuko nearly roll his eyes.

“Sokka, you can’t _own_ the concept of sarcasm, no one can.”

“I can and will, it’s my defining quality!”

“Even if it is, that doesn’t mean you can-”

The door opened and both men retracted and sat up straight.

“Good morning, Prince Zuko,” the man bowed, then turned to Sokka, “Good morning.”

Sokka nodded shortly, and responded with a polite ‘good morning to you, sir’ and felt a weird sense that he had done something wrong when the advisor froze in place, twitched his eyebrows and looked between Zuko and Sokka.

Zuko, knowing full well that the advisor was expecting Zuko to reign in his betrothed for daring to speak, took some selfish joy in _not_ doing that. He knew that Sokka would never, never in a million years even if wars were fought over it, would never be a dutiful or meek husband. Sokka was going to expect to be a part of the worldly decisions and Zuko wanted him to be a part of those decisions.

Also, Zuko was maybe a bit childish, and maybe he childishly wanted to watch the ancient advisor squirm while trying to deal with Sokka. Sokka, who was decidedly not dutiful or meek in any way, and was going to have a _lot_ to say about this license.

Besides, Sokka had said ‘good morning’ to the man, it wasn’t like he was going to punish Sokka for being nice to someone.

The advisor ignored what had just happened and sat across from the two young men, laying down some papers in a neat array.

Sokka immediately wanted to go back to bed as the man began to drone on about the traditions upheld and the conditions that they would be agreeing to by signing the marriage license. He began by outlining what was already in the document and then asking Sokka for any input about what would need to be compromised on for his Water Tribe heritage (and Sokka pretended not to notice that the guy nearly shuddered when he said Water Tribe).

There wasn’t much to change, except for the part where it outlined that the individual marrying a royal family member was expected to be ‘subservient, devoted, and obedient’ to their spouse.

“Our belief is that marriage is between two equals of equal rights and responsibilities to each other,” Sokka supplied, “Both parties are devoted to each other, not by duty but by respect, and the devotion is equal. I will not denounce my position as warrior, and I won’t let it be forgotten that I was meant to take over as Chief of the Southern Water Tribe. Zuko and I are equals.”

Zuko was worried for a moment that the man’s head might actually explode from the words that came out of Sokka’s mouth, and it didn’t go unnoticed by Zuko that Sokka was using a formal dialect of their language when speaking to the man, and he was fluent and eloquent while doing so. Zuko was going to need to ask about that later.

The prince desperately tried to wipe the smirk off his face when the advisor turned to him for help.

“It’s true, Ma Lee,” Zuko nodded. “Sokka and I are, and will remain, equal partners. As per his heritage. There’s no ‘ownership’ of one or the other.”

Zuko noticed Sokka shoot the poor man a smug look and he hated to think just what words Sokka would use if they weren’t trying to be formal and respectful in this room.

The advisor nodded reluctantly and make adjustments to one of his papers.

“Is that all?” he asked, voice low, looking up at Sokka expectantly. Sokka nodded politely, and said nothing more.

Ma Lee suppressed a huff and they moved on, to a topic Zuko had been expecting but had avoided telling Sokka about thus far.

“In the instance of creating an heir, you have two options, Prince Zuko,” the man began, either not noticing or not acknowledging Sokka’s very surprised face. “We can wait until the time is right for an heir and at that point you can choose any woman or concubine to bear the child, and she will sign a non-disclosure agreement. Alternately, if there is a specific bloodline you wish to merge with the royal family’s, there is this document which she can sign to agree to bear your children whenever necessary.”

The advisor pulled out a contract and pointed to the line on the bottom where the to-be mother was supposed to sign.

Zuko felt yucky about the whole thing, but had already given the predicament some thought, and had already reached out to an acceptable bloodline.

He let his index finger gently tap the top of the document and nodded softly.

“A close friend and I have discussed the issue of creating an heir and she has verbally agreed to sign the contract when she arrives tomorrow.”

Zuko tried to ignore the way that Sokka’s head whipped towards him, already knowing exactly who Zuko was talking about. He, thankfully, kept his mouth shut, and instead chose to watch Zuko carefully for the rest of the meeting.

Zuko kept his head up and ignored the uncomfortable feeling in his stomach.

~*~

“I apologise, Chief Hakoda,” Iroh shook his head at himself, “I have just realized we haven’t discussed the political repercussions of Sokka joining our family, here.”

Hakoda had an odd look on his face that Iroh couldn’t quite place, and his expression remained relatively neutral as he spoke. Iroh respected that, about Hakoda, he respected the man’s composure and stability that he seemed to carry in all situations.

“Well, this is more of two families merging,” Hakoda corrected briefly, before he quickly addressed Iroh’s actual question, “And I have given the repercussions some thought. Katara, if she wanted to, would take over as chief if Sokka is unwilling or unable, but she has already told me she doesn’t want to. She decided to join Aang in his quest to return balance to the world and restore the Air Nomad way of life, and she’s told me she can’t do that if she has to be chief to the Southern Water Tribe.”

Hakoda waved his hand and sipped some water, quick to finish his spiel before Iroh fainted, from the look of it the Firelord must have thought Hakoda was casually explaining the end of the Tribe.

“But, the Southern Water Tribe’s chieftaincy isn’t a matter of inheritance,” Hakoda followed up quickly. “My father wasn’t the chief, I earned the title through ritual combat. And when the time comes, Sokka and Katara will probably be called to the South Pole to fight whoever wants to take over my position.”

Hakoda chuckled. “Who knows? Maybe Ikiaq’s boy will want the title, I’ll be just a brief deviation from their family line of chiefs.”

Iroh’s expression was incredulous, and he fell into the seat with a hundred questions on his tongue about the culture of class systems (or lack thereof) in the South Pole.

~*~

After the meeting was over and Ma Lee had left in a bit of a huff, Zuko half-jogged to catch up with Sokka.

“Hey,” Zuko nudged Sokka’s arm. “You were speaking our lang-”

“Yeah, I hope it was okay,” Sokka was nodding before Zuko had finished his sentence, cutting him off. “I had to use all my brain power to remember it.”

Zuko couldn’t believe he was about to marry this enigma of a person. He had known Sokka so long now, and sometimes he felt like he barely knew him at all.

“When did you learn it?”

Sokka frowned, like Zuko was asking a question with an obvious answer, then hummed.

“Uh…” he bit his tongue. “Don’t spiral into your ‘my-family-is-awful-my-nation-is-irreparable’ feelings, okay?”

Zuko suppressed the urge to roll his eyes.

“Everyone in the South Pole grew up bilingual, in case we were kidnapped or colonized.”

Oh.

Sokka bared his teeth in an uncomfortable, sheepish squint, like he was sorry for having to say it out loud. Zuko felt a gross feeling settle into his belly at the fact that Sokka had been raised to expect to lose his culture, but he had made a promise to not spiral down into that particular pit of despair, and he nodded.

“Hey,” Sokka nudged his arm. “The war’s over, and the Southern Water Tribe is able to communicate effectively with the rest of the world. And bonus: I can speak with your advisors, _and_ I have a cute accent. We’re all good.”

Zuko did roll his eyes this time.

~*~

All Sokka wanted to do was ask about Mai, but he couldn’t bring himself to let the words out from behind his teeth.

~*~

“The invitations have been sent,” Hakoda clapped his hand on Sokka’s shoulder and passed him a piece of paper.

Sokka glanced at the paper and looked back up in shock.

“The date’s been set?”

Hakoda caught his son’s gaze, nodded to him with a tap at the top of the invite, and then left, off to follow up with a question an advisor asked him about the Southern Water Tribe.

Sokka stared at the piece of paper between his fingers.

_Firelord Iroh of the Fire Nation and Chief Hakoda of the Southern Water Tribe cordially invite you to witness the marriage of our nations by the wedding of Fire Prince Zuko, of the Fire Nation, and Sokka, of the Southern Water Tribe._

The invitation continued on to outline the date, time, and location, as well as a short (and probably sweet, but Sokka couldn’t appreciate it) piece about how the wedding would be a binding of the nations and would therefor include traditions from both Water Tribe culture and Fire Nation culture.

Holding it in hands, reading the words, suddenly everything was real.

They were getting married on the first day of spring.

He was marrying Zuko.

~*~

“Interestingly, many Fire Nation brides do wear pale colours, close to white, it is believed – falsely – that white symbolizes strength of character in a bride,” Iroh shook his head. “This is untrue. Many, many, many generations ago, the first bride to wear white was Fire Lady Chun Hua, as a protest to the death of her old life. She also sat with a sash tied around her wrists the entire ceremony. A rumour was started by merchants of silk that it was to symbolize her commitment and strength, so that they could sell more white robes. It became a trend among Fire Nation brides to wear lighter colours, such as pale yellow or pale peach with red and gold trimmings. The next royal bride to wear stark white was Zuko’s mother, Ursa.”

Hakoda looked up. Iroh nodded.

“She was protesting. She knew the real symbolism of the colour.”

~*~

Sokka approached the short, aging man who had overseen invitations and took some time to look over the guest list. He glanced over the names of their friends they had met in their adventure around the world, feeling warmth in his heart at the thought of seeing them again.

He spoke to the man, and noted that there are some names missing that he would like invitations to be sent to, from the Northern Air Temple, and some hiding out in Ba Sing Se.

~*~

The second Mai arrived, Zuko lit up, and Sokka kind of wished it wasn’t so obvious.

“Mai!” Zuko cried out, arms already outstretched, a grin splitting across his face.

“Hey, loser,” she returned, allowing herself to be hugged, and Sokka noticed the tiny smirk on her lips as she wrapped one arm around Zuko’s back.

It baffled Sokka that Mai and Zuko were close, that she was someone he just let himself be close with. Zuko was not that tactile of a person, except in rare circumstances, and didn’t initiate hugging very often. He was often restrained in showing affection, and kept his thoughts to himself, but when Mai was around it was like sunshine started radiating from him.

The truth of the matter was that Zuko and Mai had a complicated relationship – she wasn’t that good for him, objectively, and he wasn’t that good for her, but in the context of their upbringings and their relationships with other people, they were the best friend they could get for each other for a while and formed a close bond because of that.

Because the thing is that Mai would often be cold and unfeeling when Zuko needed reassurance, and Zuko was loud and hot-tempered when Mai needed patience, but what they could give each other was genuine, unconditional love – even if they both sucked at showing it.

They looked out for each other, and that was the heart of their relationship from nearly the very beginning. When Mai realized Zuko was gay – not something that took that much investigating, if she was honest – and confronted him with a proposal to cover for each other, that was the act that sealed their relationship for the rest of their lives. They had looked out for each other before that, but from that point on it was like signing a contract to swear they would keep each other safe, and they did.

Sokka still didn’t understand how someone could let their guard down around an apathetic woman who had knives on her person at all times, but he let Zuko do his thing.

Sokka tried hard not to be jealous of the way that Zuko’s face lit up the second Mai stepped into view, but it was hard. Sokka wasn’t jealous of Mai – he _wasn’t_ – but he was jealous of the way that she seemed to make everything better for the prince just by being present. Zuko had never had that kind of easiness around him, or anyone else, and Sokka just wanted to know her secrets.

He _wasn’t_ jealous.

~*~

Zuko declined to come to dinner that night, and they were informed that he was having dinner with Mai separately.

Sokka shoveled food into his mouth to stop himself from frowning and mentally focused all of his energy on wishing for Katara and Aang to arrive soon.

He _wasn’t_ jealous.

~*~

Sokka wasn’t in a bad mood because of Mai.

Sokka was in a bad mood because he had been woken, that morning, from a bad dream and the feelings from the dream were still clouding his head and that’s _it_.

The dream had been more of a nightmare, a series of memories from the day of the comet, where Zuko kept melding between different faces but all of them kept saying the same things over and over. Sometimes the things they said were the things Zuko had said on the day, other times he could see the red of the sky like the day of the comet, but the words from Zuko’s mouth were the words he had said at the bathhouse they visited as a group after the war ended. Sometimes it was garbled nonsense, one of the phrases that stuck clearly in Sokka’s brain was the part where dream-Zuko had said, ‘I can’t admit I love you, because you’re just unloveable’.

So, no, Mai wasn’t the problem. Sokka would admit, maybe it wasn’t helping the situation to watch Zuko grin like a dopey idiot every time she entered the room, but that didn’t make her the problem.

The problem was Zuko.

 _Zuko_ who made a decision about their _marriage license_ and now-inevitable future _family_ , and didn’t think to include the _person he was marrying_ in that decision.

 _Zuko_ who invited his _ex-girlfriend_ over and also didn’t think to even tell Sokka about it, despite the fact that Sokka was his _fiancé_ and _also his ex_.

 _Zuko_ who thought it was totally okay to 1) offer a relationship, 2) assure that it would be casual, 3) tell Sokka he _loved_ him, 4) _retract_ that statement, 5) _break_ _up_ with him while they were preparing to _save_ the _entire_ _world_ , 6) _approach_ Sokka afterward with the nerve to be _mad_ at _Sokka_ about it, 7) suggest to be just friends and, 8) continue to sleep with him and keep fucking Sokka around.

And maybe, _maybe_ , Sokka was just a _little_ bit jealous of Mai.

Zuko kept brushing her arm and smiling and stealing her away for private dinners, and maybe a little part of Sokka was upset that he hadn’t done that for him.

He knew it was different. He knew that they weren’t in a real relationship, back then. He knew they decided to keep it casual, and no-strings-attached, and Sokka was well aware that he was the one who wanted it to be casual.

But it still hurt. Just a little. It hurt to know that Mai would always be a better wife to Zuko than Sokka would be as his husband. Always.

Sokka maybe could have gotten through the day with people dismissing this as just Sokka-in-a-funk, a bit of a bad mood, maybe some wedding stress. He probably could have grumbled his way around the palace avoiding everyone until he got to go back to sleep, and maybe he would have woken up in a better mood.

Except that Zuko, the poor sod, had the misfortune of quietly mentioning while they sat for lunch, “Oh, I love tangerines” as a fruit platter was placed between them.

Sokka rolled his eyes, unable to help himself, and Zuko – again misfortunate – spotted the motion and felt compelled to ask about it, and it was all downhill from there.

“Is there a problem?” Zuko’s face was set in stone, eyes locked on Sokka while the warrior kept his gaze firmly on the fruit in front of them, picking at a grape.

“Oh, nothing,” Sokka made a slight motion with his head, “It’s good to know that you _love_ tangerines.”

Zuko’s face slackened and he dropped the food in his hands, and Sokka wasn’t finished.

“I’m glad that you’re secure enough to admit that you love them,” Sokka didn’t even realise his face was making a little sneer. “The tangerines deserve to be loved. It would probably hurt their feelings if you just said it and then immediately retracted it.”

Zuko’s face was dark and his gaze would be terrifying if Sokka wasn’t so angry.

“Are you really doing this?” Zuko’s eyes narrowed. “Now? Now is when you want to talk about this?”

The servants in the room suddenly realized, like telepathy, that it was probably a good time to leave, and quickly did so, only the guards remaining at their post by the door. They had heard much worse, and Zuko knew that. His whole life had been without privacy and he was used to it, and maybe a little bit childishly, he wanted Sokka to feel uncomfortable with other people listening in.

“I’m sorry, is there a better time to talk about this?” Sokka sneers.

There was a moment, just for a second, where the stares between them intensified, hands gripping the edge of the table. The guards in the room readied their energy, unsure if they needed to be prepared for a face-off between a Water Tribe Warrior and the Fire Prince.

Zuko stood, lips pursed, and flipped the tray of tangerines. The fruits pelted Sokka, but he stayed, rigid, where he sat while Zuko stormed out of the room.

The curses that came out of Sokka’s mouth as he stormed back to his chambers made one of the guards blush.

~*~

Zuko wasn’t an idiot, he noticed Sokka’s mood change when Mai arrived, and noticed it change again when she left.

Maybe he would talk to Hakoda and see if Sokka’s father could somehow convince the guy to act like a grown up.

Regardless, for the meantime Mai was back at her house and Sokka was amicable again.

Ridiculous.

~*~

The door to Sokka’s room shut quietly as Zuko let himself in.

Sokka was sitting in the middle of the room, a book open in his lap and a befuddled expression on his face.

“Hi?” Sokka voiced, waiting for Zuko to explain why he had let himself into his room rather than, you know, knock.

Zuko met his gaze and Sokka realized this was going to be a Serious Conversation. He watched as Zuko walked to the middle of the room and sat across from him.

“That wasn’t okay.”

Sokka blinked, reeling a little from the suddenness of the accusation and the lack of context to what the accusation was about.

“What wasn’t okay?”

“The tangerines, before. That wasn’t okay,” Zuko’s gaze was unwavering and steely, locked onto Sokka. It was unnerving.

Sokka pressed his lips together, determined, and breathed through his nose.

“ _Now_ you want to talk about it-”

“You don’t get to do that,” Zuko pressed over the top of Sokka’s voice. “You can’t get mad at me, bring it up in front of the staff and anyone else curious enough to listen, and then as soon as Mai leaves act like nothing happened, that’s not fair.”

Sokka’s eyes narrowed, and he opened his mouth to defend against the Mai comment but Zuko was already two steps ahead of him.

“I know you were mad about her being here, and that’s not fair either! She hasn’t done anything wrong, and you know that.”

Zuko finally looked away from Sokka, staring into his own lap and smoke starting to appear when he breathed.

“It’s not-”

“No, Sokka, I know exactly what it is, and you know it too!” Zuko looked up at him again. “I’m not okay with you treating her like that, and I’m not okay with you treating _me_ like that. You said you were fine!”

“I was! I am!” Sokka shook his head. “I’m sorry, okay? I was dumb and I said something dumb, can you leave now?”

“No!” Zuko pressed, fists clenching. “I need you to tell me why you brought it up! And I need you to tell me why you were mad at Mai.”

Sokka’s face dropped into a deadly glare and he stood in a huff, throwing the book on the floor as he did. Zuko immediately stood, determined to keep them both at the same eye level.

“I wasn’t mad at Mai.”

“Don’t!-” Zuko clenched his eyes shut and forced himself to calm down. “That’s not true, and you know it.”

“What do you want me to say, Zuko?” Sokka threw his hands up. “That I’m sorry? I already said that!”

“I don’t want an apology,” Zuko gestured with his hand, “I want you to tell me _why_.”

“Because you’re an asshole, that’s why!” Sokka exploded, hands in the air. “Because you couldn’t fucking admit you had feelings for me, and you broke us up and then you just _left_! ‘Bye, Sokka, have fun in the South Pole’, and that was _it!_ And then when I was mad about it – because that’s such a fucking crime – you couldn’t handle being guilty and _you_ came into _my_ _room_ at the bathhouse for what? An apology? For being upset at you?”

Sokka was steaming, and he wasn’t about to stop.

“And I’m sorry I was mad at Mai! I didn’t mean to be, Mai’s not my problem here, it’s _you_!” Sokka rushed forward and jabbed a finger into Zuko’s chest. “It’s you and your stupid face, and the fact that the entire time we’ve been here we haven’t spoken about it! We haven’t spoken about the fact that you _dumped_ _me_ that day we went off to _end the fucking war_ , and then you just strolled up afterwards asking to be my _friend_.”

Zuko kept his head held high, and watched as Sokka’s eyes began to get wet along the rim of his eyelids, finger still against Zuko’s chest.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka breathed, voice raw. “I’m sorry, I really am. That was stupid and petty. I didn’t mean it.”

Sokka stepped back and ran a hand through his hair, groaning.

“Whatever, you got your answer, you know why, now,” he shook his head, moving forward again and pushing Zuko towards the door. “Get out, please.”

Zuko was eerily quiet, still taking in everything Sokka said, but he had enough control over himself to put his hands out behind him, smacking up against the door, barring himself inside.

Sokka looked at him disdainfully and sighed.

“Zuko, please.”

“No,” the prince shook his head, stepping further into the room, away from the door. “No, you’re right, we haven’t talked about it.”

Sokka’s jaw fell open and Zuko, for a moment, really thought that this might finally be the day Sokka attacked him.

“Are you kidding me?” the warrior wiped at his eyes quickly, like he hoped it was subtle enough for Zuko to not notice. “No, Zuko, get _out_.”

There was a voice in the back of Zuko’s head, one that sounded suspiciously like Iroh, that urged him to respect Sokka’s space and leave. But the other part of him – the part that had told Sokka he loved him, the part that had reached out to Mai, the part that had told him to join the Avatar’s group and bring peace back to his country – couldn’t leave all of this emotional mess everywhere. He needed to clean it.

“I’m sorry,” Zuko whispered, staring at the floor. “Sokka, I’m sorry, okay? I shouldn’t have…”

Zuko stopped for a moment. There was a lot he shouldn’t have done.

“I shouldn’t have done any of it. What I said on that day, what I did at the bathhouse,” Zuko sighed and squeezed his eyes shut. “Maybe we shouldn’t have done anything together, at all, I don’t know. But- but, I do know that I’m sorry for making you feel like this.”

Zuko finally looked up, and Sokka was rubbing his temples, eyes closed. The warrior sighed deeply and nodded, eyes still squeezed shut and head still in his hands.

“Okay,” Sokka’s voice finally sounded in the silence between them, soft and raspy. This was officially too much for Sokka to handle – he had been reading up about the Earth Kingdom entomology, of all things, he certainly hadn’t asked to be tossed into this tension they were sharing.

“Thank you. Can you please leave, now?” Sokka finished.

Zuko nodded, and left.

~*~

When they sat for dinner, Sokka arrived last, but when he sat down with them, he sat next to Zuko.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> they keep hinting to things that happened in their past and i know that we havent let the reader know these events yet, but it's okay that's on purpose. you didn't hear this from me but the next chapter or two may or may not fill in some of these blanks.


	7. PART V

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> upload schedule?? please explain i'm unfamiliar with the term 
> 
> anyway here's a short one. we aren't quite out of the angst yet (are we ever?)

Two weeks passed since the Tangerine Incident before the two young men were able to even speak to each other, both swept up in the slowly increasing wedding-planning stress.

They had received word that Katara and Aang were on their way to the Palace and due any day now, other responses to the invitations were starting to trickle in, and word had been sent to Suki, Toph, and Mai to request their attendance for the pre-wedding celebrations. Hakoda had been wrapped up in organizing the wedding details, as per his discussions with Iroh, while the Firelord resumed his daily tasks of running the country. They received weekly updates from the South Pole, mostly from Bato (who was acting as chief in Hakoda’s absence) to liaise with Hakoda about the events of the tribe and any issues that came up, but also sometimes Bato would sneak in messages from Gran-Gran and other friends from home.

In those two weeks, emotions had simmered down, and Zuko and Sokka had settled into a usual routine of making quick jokes and waving whenever they passed each other briefly or had meetings together. Zuko had to learn how to run the country, as he hadn’t been around to learn when he was a teenager, and while the wedding was in ‘organising’ stage instead of ‘planning’ stage, he had no excuses to get out of strategic meetings. While Zuko was preoccupied, Sokka had been enlisted by some of the historical and cultural advisors to talk about his experience growing up in the South Pole and his tribe’s history, but also to discuss what he experienced and learned in his travels with the Avatar.

And finally, in Zuko’s mother’s garden, they found themselves sitting alone together for the first time in two weeks, with just enough time in their schedules to have an actual conversation. It was freezing when they arrived, but Sokka had a feeling Zuko had been bending their air around them to keep the temperature bearable.

“Where do you want to go for our honeymoon?” Sokka asked, sprawled out on the garden grass. Zuko was sat at a chair, at a small table with a pot of hot tea and some sugar-biscuits. He couldn’t quite tell if what Sokka said was a joke or not, just as he couldn’t quite believe that Sokka was laying in the frosty grass on a winter morning. Water Tribe.

“I liked Ember Island,” Sokka continued, happy to babble regardless of a willing listener. “I know we were hiding out in your family vacation home, but it was still pretty nice.”

Not a joke, apparently.

Zuko sipped his tea. “I miss Ba Sing Se.”

Sokka’s eyebrow quirked.

“I don’t know if you remember Ba Sing Se the same way I did, but that wasn’t exactly what I would call a very fun experience,” he mocked, “Or was it not, in fact, the scene of one of the biggest regrets in your life?”

Zuko hushed him with a scornful glare, but elaborated for Sokka’s sake.

“Lake Laogai and my sister’s invasion and the Avatar _dying_ in the catacombs are not what I miss,” Zuko chuckled in disbelief at the memory of their adventures, so distant now it felt like a past life. “I miss the markets, the lanterns, the food. I miss my uncle’s tea shop. Our apartment.”

Sokka let his mouth quirk into a small smile. He looked up at his fiancé, taking in the details of his face.

Zuko had much shorter hair, when they were in the caves in Ba Sing Se, and Sokka imagined that at the time he would have still been angry and volatile. He could only imagine sweet Iroh, patient as the tides, managing a tea shop and his nephew with ease and grace. He imagined Zuko in Earth Kingdom clothes, serving tea and having to resist the urge to crisp-ify anyone who was rude to him as a waiter. Honestly, trying to imagine Prince Hothead in a place of servitude while he was still so angry and reactive was amusing enough in itself.

“Where was your tea shop?” he asked quietly, like a secret between them.

Zuko smiled. “We worked in a shop in the lower ring, at first, but then Uncle was offered his own shop in the upper ring.”

Zuko stood from the table and laid down next to Sokka, hands folded over his chest. _Ugh_ , the grass was _wet_ , how was Sokka comfortable laying here?

“He wasn’t going to take over as Firelord,” Zuko said softly. “Uncle, that is. He was really going to go back to his shop. I was meant to step up.”

Sokka looked over, letting Zuko speak rather than filling the silence with all the questions that had flooded his mind with this sudden and unexpected proclamation.

“I was raised as the future Firelord ever since my cousin, Lu Ten, died, when I was eight,” Zuko continued. “Lu Ten was Uncle’s only child, so the throne was going to fall to me eventually, regardless of whether my father or Iroh succeeded Grandfather. Even when I was banished I was still expecting to take over the throne when I came back with the Avatar. Most of my reason to capture Aang was for my father’s blessing, but I did want my throne. I didn’t want Azula to win over me again.”

Sokka’s eyes betrayed him as his gaze darted to Zuko’s hands. He laid his own hands down by his sides, fiddling with the grass.

“I-… I had a panic attack right before the coronation.”

Sokka’s brows furrowed. He had been surprised when Iroh had appeared to be crowned Firelord, but he didn’t realize that it was a last-minute decision, he just assumed they had all been left out of the loop.

“Iroh was there to calm me, and he said he would take his rightful place,” Zuko shook his head. “I feel like I failed him, sometimes. I know he just wanted to retire in Ba Sing Se-”

“Zuko, you have to stop putting your self-worth in the hands of your family,” Sokka cut him off, rolling his eyes.

Zuko looked at him, his good eye widened. Sokka didn’t notice, still staring up at the clouds.

“I mean,” Sokka waved a hand around, “You were seventeen. And you had just done a lot of self-discovery, and you went from banished traitor to welcomed prince to traitor again. _I_ know you’re a good person, and _I_ know you would have been an amazing Firelord – and will be when you do take over – but you would have had to try and convince your people to trust you and the rest of the world to trust the Fire Nation, while still confused and shout-y.”

“Shout-y?” Zuko smirked, deflecting.

“You know exactly what I mean,” Sokka laughed. He sighed and let his palm lay flat against the grass. Zuko noticed the slight movement and cautiously laid the arm on Sokka’s side down in the grass, nearly close enough to touch Sokka’s arm but not quite.

“But really,” Sokka continued. “You have to believe in yourself. You can’t think of yourself as a failure for having very valid fears about very real situations. Your uncle should have always been the one to take over the throne after the war. I know that he couldn’t be the one to kill Ozai, and I understood his talk about destiny, but you were barely an adult. You’re still barely an adult.”

Sokka’s pinky finger twitched and he poked the side of Zuko’s hand.

“But-”

“ _No_ ,” Sokka pressed. “No buts. You’re allowed to be a prince a little bit longer. You were _banished_ at _thirteen_ , you’re allowed to shirk your destiny for a couple more years. You’re not a failure Zuko, without you this war wouldn’t have ended.”

Zuko looked at him. “That’s not-”

“No it _is_ true,” Sokka wasn’t letting this go. “Aang would have never been able to learn firebending, there’s no way we could have fought off that assassin or Azula in the Western Air Temple if you weren’t there. You held off Azula on the day of the comet so that we could fight Ozai. And, not to mention, you’re the one who knew about your father’s plan for the day of the comet, so if we didn’t have you we would have just waited through that day and the Earth Kingdom would have been burnt up.”

Sokka felt his chest tense up.

“I wouldn’t have found my dad or Suki without you, Katara wouldn’t have gotten closure about our mom, and honestly-” Sokka laughed under his breath, “When you were chasing us, my fighting skills were honed in very nicely. You provided us with an ever-present reason to get better and better at strategy, offense, and defense.”

Sokka took in a breath and casually – very definitely casually, he totally didn’t have a mini-conniption about whether to or to not – grabbed Zuko’s hand with his own, interlocking their fingers. He refused to look over at Zuko as he did so, staring straight up at the cloudy sky.

“I’m glad I met you,” Sokka smiled. “Please stop doubting yourself, or feeling like you’ve let people down, because you haven’t, oka-”

Sokka’s heart dropped when he noticed Zuko’s good eye prickling with redness and wet. Oh no.

“No, shit, I didn’t want you to-”

Zuko looked off to the side, trying to hide his watering eyes, and Sokka cringed a little in guilt, squeezing Zuko’s hand.

He wanted to say sorry, but he didn’t want to force Zuko into a response. Sokka felt his heart racing. He had made his best friend – his _fiancé_ – cry. He just wanted him to feel good about himself, Sokka didn’t realize how much hate Zuko had internalized, that he couldn’t handle praise.

Sokka was suddenly shocked from his thoughts by Zuko’s warm arm wrapping around his, pulling Sokka closer even though the prince kept his face turned away.

Sokka melted, full of guilt and sympathy and a hint of rage purely on the basis that someone had broken this fantastic man and made him cry when given praise and Sokka didn’t like that.

Zuko made a small hiccupping noise in his throat, and Sokka sat up, leaning down to grip Zuko under his arms and pull him up to sit him in his lap. He kept his arms wrapped around the prince, face dropped into his neck, and fingers gently drawing along his collarbone.

~*~

Iroh, Hakoda and Sokka were already sat for dinner when an attendant came into the dining hall and informed them that Prince Zuko had elected to not join them for dinner.

~*~

Sokka put his hand on the door to his room when he felt a familiar warm presence behind him.

Zuko didn’t smell like smoke the way that Sokka had expected when they first met, he smelt like chilli and honey, and now that he was living in the Fire Nation again there seemed to always be a hint of lemon and saltwater sitting underneath his usual scent.

It was distinct and unmistakable, and Sokka knew the person standing behind his right shoulder was Zuko.

Sokka turned to face him, and noticed that Zuko’s eyes were dry now, but his good eye was still red around the edges, like he had still been a bit teary more recently and had gone and calmed himself before coming to Sokka.

“What-”

Zuko silenced him with a look, glanced around the hallway to double check it was still empty (it was), and reached over Sokka to open the door to his chambers, pushing them both inside and doing the door up.

Sokka stood warily in the middle of his room, keeping his eyes on Zuko – who had both palms planted against the door and was refusing to meet Sokka’s gaze.

“Zuko-”

“You know how we broke up?” Zuko finally looked up at him. “Or stopped doing-… whatever? After last time?”

Sokka’s heart was beating so fast. He gulped. He nodded.

Zuko’s fingers clenched against the door for a moment.

“I think that was dumb, to stop, and I want to have a discussion to… revise…”

Sokka – heart still beating but suddenly unable to remain as nervous as he was after _that_ – rolled his eyes.

“Revise? Really, Zuko? I dare you to talk like a normal person.”

Zuko huffed, meeting his gaze, and Sokka felt a tremble run down through him.

“I want you to fuck me.”

Oh. Okay.

“Yep,” Sokka squeaked, nodding, unable to move as Zuko locked the door and moved towards him.

Sokka felt like he couldn’t breathe, taking Zuko’s wrists into his own as the firebender finally got close enough for him to reach. He could smell him again, spicy and sweet, and it was making Sokka’s insides melt.

Sokka let go of Zuko’s right hand, and cradled his chin gently.

It was Zuko who closed the gap, and Sokka could feel his pulse under his grip, feel how fast Zuko’s heart was beating, knew that he wanted this as badly as Sokka, except then-

“Shit,” Zuko whispered a curse, good eye going wide and innocent, like a child who smashed a vase and his mother was rounding the corner. He pulled back, yanking his wrist out of Sokka’s grip, and ran out the doors and down the hallway.

Sokka stood, in the middle of an empty bedroom, arms still raised to where he had been holding Zuko and lips still parted. He blinked a couple times, taking in his surroundings.

“Okay.”

~*~

Katara and Aang arrived the next morning, and they had barely landed before Sokka stole his sister and whisked her away to the gardens for privacy.

“Katara, under normal circumstances, I would never tell you this, but honestly I kind of feel like I’m going to explode!” Sokka’s voice was rushed and panicked, hitching a bit too high of a pitch at the end.

Katara looked honest-to-goodness worried, all wide blue eyes and fingers flickering over her satchel which Sokka knew held water for healing.

“What is it?” she pressed cautiously. Sokka sighed, grabbed his sister’s arms, and sat them down at the table under the lantern tree. _Yikes_ this garden just had some kind of deep-conversation-invoking aura.

“Look, I…” Sokka groaned, “I need to tell you a lot of things. I’ve been keeping this a secret for years, Katara, literally _years_ , and you have to promise you won’t explode and kill someone or hit me. I just need to talk to you.”

Katara nodded.

“Zuko and I...” Sokka huffed and started again, rubbing a hand against his arm. “During the war, before all this marriage stuff, Zuko and I were... _involved_.”

“What do you mean involved-” Katara gasped dramatically, “ _No!_ ”

“It was purely casual, no labels no feelings-” he stopped, unsure how to finish his sentence.

Katara fumbled for a moment, air pushing through her lips but only splutters coming out. Sokka could practically see the imagery in her head, trying to map out how and when and why.

“Sokka,” Katara put her face in her hands. “You cannot just drop this on me, please explain how this happened?? What about Suki?!”

Sokka explained. He explained everything.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> sokka's ultimate romance tips: make your ex cry and they'll want to get back with you. this message is reluctantly zuko-approved.


	8. PART VI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> y'all ready for some fucking exposition

Sokka’s bisexual awakening began on a humble morning in the forest that started with Katara telling him he “wouldn’t be so bossy if he just kissed a girl” and ended with Jet. While her and Aang were teasing him about his instincts incessantly – which, by the way, his instincts were often _right_ – they stumbled upon the Fire Nation.

Like a true protagonist in a ‘damsel in distress’ story, a rugged young man with a straw of hay in his mouth appeared, saving the day and looking good doing it. He and his freedom fighters took on a whole fleet of fully grown, fully trained Fire Nation soldiers like it was nothing. Jet himself was quick, and he was talented in the art of murdering and maiming soldiers.

Later in the day, when Katara was awkwardly flirting with Jet and _completely throwing Sokka under the bus_ , Sokka realised belatedly that he wasn’t actually upset _until_ Katara threw him under the bus and a thought popped into his mind that said, ‘ _hey are you actually mad because you’re protective of your sister or is something else going on here?_ ’. Hearing Jet come to his defence and assure Katara that Sokka “probably had a rough day” stirred something in his chest that felt warm and maybe comforting?

Sokka decided that these were dumb and stupid thoughts that didn’t make sense and he didn’t like them. Sokka knew he was being manipulated when Jet asked him to stay the night for the mission but he couldn’t help it, he wanted to feel important and this dumb, stupid little part of him wanted Jet – who towered over him, by the way, and he didn’t know why that was all of a sudden something he was enjoying – to think he was important.

His brain decided to not get any sleep that night and he had a lot of time to think these thoughts, and he was not enjoying the stupid conclusion they kept trying to lead him to.

Because the thing is, Sokka didn’t actually like Jet. Something felt off about him. But, at the same time, there was something there that Sokka was intrigued by, something that reminded him of the first time he met Suki and he had been captivated by her power. When he met Suki, he chalked up that captivation to attraction, but obviously that couldn’t be the case here because Jet was a guy and there was no way he could be attracted to a guy.

This very fun conclusion that maybe he _could_ be, was what threw Sokka out of bed in the early hours of the morning to splash water on his face before he had a full-on freak out about the implications of him finding Jet attractive.

Sokka felt almost relieved when he realized how bad Jet was because it meant he could push his gay feelings deep down into his gut and focus on how shitty the guy is.

So, he did.

Sokka pushed those feelings allllll the way down and then – _boom_ – months later they arrive in the catacombs under Ba Sing Se and there’s Zuko but he’s small and quiet and not trying to kill them and his hair is… cute?

Oh _no_.

The gay feelings come a-rushing all the way back in and Sokka is almost thankful for the quick and overpowering distraction that is the absolute chaos and atrocity that followed. But, no matter how shitty Zuko was – reliably awful and consistently Fire Nation – Sokka felt the same way about him as it was with Jet. He hated every part of who he was as a person and how he acted, but Sokka couldn’t deny that Zuko was hot.

After Aang straight up died, Sokka found himself in a situation where he was either completely occupied with sorting out just what to do next, or he was completely alone with nothing to figure out. Technically, yes, they were on the run still, but they were no longer travelling by foot or Appa in a small group on constant alert looking for food – they were now a big group on a ship surrounded by nothing but ocean. It, unfortunately, was leaving Sokka with a lot of time to himself, forcing him to have to confront his Gay Thoughts.

And he realizes: yep. They’re there. They’re real. He’s not just having a one-off _‘haha what if we kissed no_ _homo though’_ thought, it was ‘I am attracted to men’. Shit.

But honestly, he realized, once he took some time to acknowledge his thoughts instead of shoving them in a box, he was happy with having them around. It was like the inside of his head was a little igloo, and he had decorated it. Instead of shoving his sexuality into the bottom of an ornate wooden box somewhere, they were on a shelf. A part of the decorations, a part of him.

Sokka, surprising even to himself, was okay with those thoughts being out there. He wasn’t going to go and point them out to anyone, but for now, in the middle of this war, he realized that his sexuality was not his biggest or most pressing issue to spend his mental energy on. Boys were cute, he was okay with it, and that was enough for now. He could figure out the dating aspect and how to tell people about it if he was still alive after Aang defeated Ozai.

Except that then the stupid little prick with the dumb scar and the cute hair decided to stop killing them (which Sokka was still very unsure about) and was sleeping _down the hall_ from Sokka and ruining all of his _I’ll Handle It When The War Is Over_ plans.

~*~

It had started in the Western Air Temple.

Sokka had told Aang he was going to go forage for food, which he was, but there was an embarrassing and relatively urgent issue downstairs he had wanted to deal with – _alone_ – first. And while Sokka was happy that Aang didn’t find his impromptu foraging mission suspicious, that also meant that Aang (after cracking a couple jokes about how he didn’t want them coming back with more people this time) insisted Zuko help Sokka bring food back. Zuko, none the wiser, was happy to help look for food.

Sokka, who had just wanted to jerk off in the middle of the forest like a normal teenager, now wanted to die.

But Sokka never gets what he wants, so they had set off. Zuko had strapped his twin dao to his back and had tied a sack to his waist to carry back whatever they found, and Sokka (as always) had brought Boomerang along, but had opted to bring a spear with them to hunt with instead of Space Sword.

They trodded along quietly for a while, scouring the area for fruits or animals, and kept going like that for at least a good five minutes before Zuko broke the quiet.

“I’ve never hunted before,” he stated, out of nowhere.

Sokka’s brows drew but he kept moving forward, watching the area in front of him for tracks or a burrow of any kind.

“Why do you feel that right now while we’re hunting is a good time to bring that up?” he murmured softly.

Zuko rolled his eyes. “Is there a better time? I thought you should know, seeing as we’re hunting, that I’m… inexperienced.”

“Oh, that hurt you to say didn’t it?”

“Shut up!”

Sokka whipped his head around and gave Zuko a harsh look, bringing his finger to his lips in a motion that he desperately hoped portrayed what he wanted to say which was, ‘shut up, moron!’.

“First rule, young pupil, don’t scare off the food with loud sounds,” Sokka whispered. “Even if you’re really angry.”

Zuko’s head hung the tiniest bit lower but he kept moving and kept quiet after that.

Sticks crackling beneath their feet was all Sokka could hear for a while, until-

“Hey, do you think those are edible?” Zuko whispered, pointing. Sokka followed the line of his finger and noticed the scraggly, bushy trees up ahead, and could distantly make out the reddish-orange bulbs hidden amongst the leaves.

“Those are Air Nation plum trees!” Sokka exclaimed, voice still hushed after many years of learning how to keep dynamic tone while still being quiet on a hunt, and he sprinted off. “Come on, Jerkbender, bet I can race you!”

Zuko rolled his eyes, not bothering to run after Sokka, instead pulling out his dao and marching in the warrior’s wake.

“What’re the swords for?” Sokka asked around a mouthful of plum when Zuko arrived at his side. He was picking the fruits as he went and slowly filling up the sack. Aang would be very pleased with this discovery.

“I haven’t hunted before, but I did have to forage with Uncle, and he knows a lot about plants,” Zuko said fondly, holding out a branch and bring one sword down onto it to cut off a section about the length of his forearm, a bunch of plums at one end. “I think the Air Nation plum trees are the type you can re-plant with a cutting from the original tree. A lot of the monks farmed this way.”

Sokka nodded, accepting the new information, and they continued their way around the tree together, Sokka taking individual plums and Zuko cutting off branches about the length of his forearm and wedging them into his belt for hands-free travel.

Sokka’s hands slowed as they met around the other side of the tree, watching Zuko hack off the branches. The guy was focused on his work, and taking great care not to cause unnecessary damage to the tree, something Sokka didn’t expect. He could see Zuko’s arms flex with each swipe of his sword, and the humid air was starting to get to them both, a light sheen of sweat covering Zuko’s biceps and his forehead.

 _Shit_ , his boner was back.

Sokka swallowed and turned away from Zuko quickly, pretending to fiddle with the sack on his hip while he readjusted his pants as discreetly as possible. He could not let Zuko know he had an erection in the forest.

“Hey look, pigweed!” he noticed, thankful for the distraction. Sokka bent down to pull at the plant, knowing that Aang would probably know what to do with it because Sokka recognized it – sure – but had no idea how to cook with it. Aang had gone on for hours sometimes about the different plants the Air Nomads used in their cooking, and Sokka wouldn’t be being honest if he said he remembered any of it.

Zuko was apparently satisfied with the branches he had cut, and leant down to help Sokka collect some of the pigweed.

Their hands briefly brushed together and Zuko clearly didn’t seem to care, moving on like nothing happened, but a brief shiver went up Sokka’s spine. He was way too wired to be doing any kind of mundane or domestic task, especially not right across from one of the most attractive people he had ever met.

Sokka’s brain, unhelpfully, was running at a million miles a minute and he absolutely could not stop it. The second he saw Zuko’s arms hacking away at some tree, that was it for Sokka; there was no more hunter-gatherer knowledge left in there, just very inappropriate daydreams about the young man crouched across from him.

“Alright!” Sokka squeaked, then cleared his throat. “That’s the vegetarian sorted – let’s find some meat.”

Sokka blushed at his own words, but Zuko didn’t seem to notice. Which is fair, because given the context there was nothing out of the ordinary about what Sokka had said, it’s just that Sokka was being an over-thinking idiot and really wanted a whole different kind of meat to the kind they were talking about.

Zuko wiped the sweat off his forehead as he stood up. “I think I hear water running over that way, should we follow that?”

Sokka swallowed again, nodding briskly. “Good instincts, Jerkbender.”

Zuko rolled his eyes but didn’t say anything, letting Sokka walk ahead.

As they neared the water the tree roots began to get more twisted up, and more prominent. Sokka glanced behind and noticed that Zuko was taking extra precaution not to get tripped up.

“It’s alright, Zuko,” he said quietly, focusing on his footing himself. “It clears out he-!”

Sokka was cut off suddenly by Zuko’s body falling on top of his own with a faint shriek, pushing them both out onto the shore of the creek that Zuko had heard.

Sokka froze in place once they both stopped moving, hands digging into the soft dirt as his tried desperately to stay still. Sokka had landed on his back, with Zuko falling face-first into his chest, stomach directly over Sokka’s groin. Thankfully Zuko had caught most of his weight with his hands (either side of Sokka’s torso) and knees (in between Sokka’s thighs) so he hadn’t crushed the warrior, but Sokka was sure Zuko could feel what was happening down there.

Sokka desperately tried to think about anything mundane or gross – skinning a mole-rat, Appa sneezing on him, Gran-Gran walking in on him jerking off that one time – but Zuko hovering on top of his body, just barely touching him, was only encouraging it and he was sixteen and hormone-addled so at this point there was nothing Sokka could really do about it.

Sokka’s dick gave a little jerk, throbbing quietly, and Zuko looked up at Sokka.

“I, um,” there was literally no way to apologise for this, Sokka hung his head in defeat. “Look-”

“Don’t,” Zuko cut him off. He hadn’t gotten up yet. Sokka’s little traitor gave another jerk.

Zuko was visibly roused, cheeks flushed pink just the tiniest bit and lips slightly parted. He shuffled, but didn’t get up, just moved up Sokka’s body so their faces were in line.

Sokka was going to die.

It was Zuko who leaned forward and pushed their mouths together – inexperienced and uncoordinated but it set the tension in the air off like a spark to a powder keg. Bodies moving entirely without thought, Sokka found himself deepening the kiss and reaching up to cradle the back of Zuko’s head, his other hand grasping the bender’s hip.

Zuko forcefully pushed Sokka’s legs down and straddled his waist, pushing one arm behind Sokka’s neck leaning on his forearm to hold himself up, using his other hand to clamp Sokka’s waist hard.

Sokka could feel their bodies pressed together, acutely aware that apparently Zuko also had a little traitor, twitching every so often against the ‘v’ of Sokka’s hip. The hand on Sokka’s waist move up, thumb pushing into his cheek. Sokka bit Zuko’s lip, unable to help himself, and enjoyed the faint growl in the back of Zuko’s throat, the bender’s hand continuing up and grabbing at Sokka’s hair.

Sokka pressed bruises into Zuko’s side, flipping them over with a heavy thud and sitting on Zuko’s hips. He could feel the prince pulling at his hair – hard – and sending little shockwaves through his whole body. Zuko planted one foot flat into the dirt and hooked his other leg behind Sokka’s knee, holding him down.

Sokka groaned – just a little, he couldn’t help himself – as Zuko grunted with frustration and ripped the hair-tie out of Sokka’s wolftail, discarding it somewhere and grabbing the loose strands. The young warrior definitely (maybe, probably) didn’t mean to, but he rocked his hips against Zuko’s grinding them together in impatience.

“Shit, wait-” Zuko ripped himself away, pushing Sokka over in his haste to stand up, then stumbled backwards himself and fell flat on his ass.

The two boys stared at each other in silence, panting, cheeks flushed and eyes wide.

The sky above them crackled, breaking the silence and successfully redirecting their attention.

Aang and Katara had both been warning them that they felt a storm coming but Zuko – ever the impulsive know-it-all – didn’t believe them. Sokka, though, had made that mistake once before, so he assured Katara they’d be back in time and if not – they’d camp out.

They camped out.

After the sky first crackled with energy, it didn’t take long for the rain to set in. Zuko had realized first what was going to happen, able to smell the plants in the area open up in preparation for the rain, and he had grabbed Sokka’s hand to urge them to start moving back towards the temple.

Unfortunately, the second Sokka was on his feet, the rain had begun. Light at first but very quickly turning heavy, and the sky above them darkening.

Zuko’s face was pulled into a comical frown, lower lip pouting and corners turned almost inhumanly downwards. His hair was sopping wet, stuck to his face in an uncomfortable clumping pattern, and his tunic provided little protection against the beating rain.

He looked like a wet cat.

Sokka, uncomfortable also but finding too much humour in Zuko’s demise to care that much, scouted the area for any sign of shelter. He noticed that just across the creek, in the face a short cliff, there was a cave about fourteen feet up, with a pile of rocks beneath it that they could easily climb.

Sokka made a small ‘aha!’ sound and grabbed Zuko’s hand, pulling them into the water and ignoring Zuko’s yelling. He led the way up the rocks and pulled Zuko into the mouth of the cave to get them both out of the heavy rain.

“Come on, Zuko, turn that frown upside down!” Sokka jeered, smiling, tying his hair back up the best he could.

Sokka eyed the branches that had fallen in the mouth of the cave long ago, just enough inside the cave to not be soaked by the rain.

“Will it cheer you up to set something on fire?” he coaxed, moving over to the branches and pulling them further in, clearing a space to pile the firewood.

Zuko remained silent, and turned away from him to untie his belt, discard the swords and branches he had been carrying, and remove the wet vest and shirt. He began using his breath of fire to dry himself off. Sokka watched – mostly in envy – as the flames licked over Zuko’s body, slow and lazy, taking their time to warm his skin.

It was odd to watch Zuko like this, quiet and docile. To be near him at all was still, frankly, a little odd. They’d worked well together at the Boiling Rock but that had mostly been out of necessity. While they were there, they needed to function as a cohesive unit, understand one another, and had to trust their lives in each other’s hands. They had to fully trust that the other guy wasn’t going to turn him in at any given moment, and trust that they could work together.

They didn’t have time to think about how weird it was, they didn’t even get the time to sit down and bond – other than the warship ride over there, which went _spectacularly_. Sokka had learnt that Zuko was dramatic and used to have a girlfriend, and Zuko had learnt that Sokka was prone to unwarranted overshare.

Now that they were out of the rain, reality was setting in about what had just happened between them, and neither of them were looking at each other.

Sokka, now turned away from Zuko, slowly peeled his wet tunic off and hung it on a little outcrop in the wall of the cave to dry, hearing the familiar _whoosh_ of firebending behind him and feeling the warmth of the fire set in around the room.

Unfortunately, watching Zuko firebend himself dry before had brought his previous issue straight back to the forefront of his mind and made itself very apparent now that he had shed his tunic and there was nothing between his skin and the wide world but his wet leggings.

Sokka didn’t know what it was about firebending that was so attractive. He didn’t know if it was the foreign aspect, or that it felt taboo, or the raw power required to harness such an element with grace, but for some reason it had become a turn-on for Sokka (which was, yes, very unhelpful in a war against the Fire Nation but fighting fire was different, _okay_ ).

What he did know was that Zuko was hot, firebending was hot (pardon the pun), and Zuko firebending was _very_ hot. Especially when said Zuko was _very_ _shirtless_ and apparently _very ripped_.

Sokka sat on the ground in front of the fire, knees up in an attempt to hide his crotch. Zuko pottered around, dawdling, before eventually sitting in front of the fire as well. Sokka envied his loose pants.

“Don’t-” Zuko huffed, and Sokka waited. “You cannot tell anyone about that.”

Sokka frowned a little, unsure. “Uh. Yeah?”

Zuko glowered. “I mean it! You can’t tell!”

“I won’t!” Sokka shouted back. Maybe Zuko hadn’t changed all that much.

“Look, I don’t know what the Water Tribes are like but the last Fire Nation prince who liked other men was castrated, and I would rather not have a repeat,” Zuko met Sokka’s gaze with a levelling glare.

Sokka rolled his eyes. “I was raised in a village of literally twenty-one people, Zuko, we were _wiped_ _out_ by the Fire Nation. Women weren’t allowed to marry if they were _infertile_ , do you think they smiled kindly at two men deciding to become monogamous?”

Zuko seemed taken aback by this. He hadn’t had time to contemplate the repercussions of life in a small village.

“Besides,” Sokka exhaled deeply and laid down against the solid ground, “It’s not like I’m going to go up to Katara and say, ‘hey, you know how you’re ready at any moment to kill Zuko? I made out with him’.”

Zuko was silent, playing with some flames between his fingertips. Sokka knew he used to firebend out of emotion, and wondered distantly if he used it as an outlet for stress as well.

They were quiet again, the sound of rain and thunder filling the space between them.

“Are we going to talk about it?” Sokka asked, gesturing with one hand. He couldn’t see Zuko’s face, and he didn’t hear a verbal answer, so the young man made an assumption that no, they were not-

“I didn’t mean to,” Zuko whispered, barely audible over the rain.

“You didn’t do anything wrong, Zuko.”

“Then what do you want to talk about?”

“I mean,” Sokka blinked. “What happens now? Do you… do you want to do it again?”

Sokka couldn’t handle the quiet between them anymore. Maybe Zuko used to be a bit of a dick but he was good now, at least _semi_ -good, and he had taught Aang traditional firebending from dragons, he had risked his life to keep Sokka safe at a high security prison and he was _hot_.

Maybe Sokka wanted to kiss him again.

He leant up on his elbows and looked Zuko in the eyes.

“Do you?” Sokka asked again.

Zuko looked at the floor, his expression tired. “Maybe.”

Sokka groaned dramatically, letting himself lay back down and throwing his hands up into the air.

“Well, come on! Take matters into your own hands!” he exclaimed.

Zuko frowned. “Excuse me?”

“We’re in a cave in the middle of nowhere with no one around while there’s a storm outside covering our tracks and any noise we make at all,” Sokka sat up and looked him in the eye. “If you want to do something, there is literally no better time to do it.”

Zuko was stoic and firm-faced, gaze hardened and guarded as he carefully watched Sokka’s expressions.

“Please?” the warrior finished, faking a pout.

“You want to?” Zuko seemed surprised, standing up and patting off the dirt.

“What, do you think this an elaborate ruse?” Sokka scoffed. “Leave the paranoia to me, for once, Jerkbender.”

“Okay, you’re going to have to stop calling me that,” Zuko urged, tone stern, moving quickly into a kneel over Sokka’s torso, straddling his sides. Zuko grabbed one of Sokka’s hands and held it down against the ground over his head.

Sokka smirked, wiggling under him. “Make me.”

~*~

They did more than just make out.

The post-orgasmic moment was still, hormones fading and reality setting in. Sokka could hear the rain again, and the faint crackle of the fire, as he tuned back in to the world’s slow symphony.

Sokka raised himself up slowly, up off the ground and off of Zuko, still panting. He found his tunic – cast aside in their hurry and still wet from the rain – and tossed it to the prince so he could clean up the mess they had made all over him.

“Thank you,” Zuko said, almost under his breath, and Sokka wasn’t entirely sure which thing he was thanking him for.

Sokka gave Zuko the tunic after he cleaned himself up and softly padded around the inside of the cave picking up their clothes, searching for his pants. He tossed Zuko’s pants over towards the prince and gave a short cry of victory when he found his own.

If he had looked up, he would have noticed the warm smile on Zuko’s lips, or at least noticed Zuko watching him, amused and fond.

Zuko shook himself out of it. Post-orgasm haze, and stupid hormones, that’s all that was.

The storm was still raging on outside, and Sokka noticed distantly that the sky was still dark outside with no sign of getting lighter.

“Looks like we’ll be stuck here a while longer,” he mused, pulling his pants on with a bit of a jump and a wiggle. Zuko, still naked, punched a blast of fire at their little fireplace (which had been dwindling while they were preoccupied), and threw his arm over his face.

“Well, I don’t know about you, but I might try and get some rest while we wait it out.”

Sokka looked around the cave, unsure of where to sit. They probably should have had that ‘what is the nature of our relationship now that you’ve touched my penis’ conversation either before they did sexy things or right after, but now Zuko was apparently going to sleep and if Sokka was honest he was cold.

Like mind-reading, Zuko lifted his arm and gave the ground next to him a single smack, not moving his other arm from his eyes. Sokka smiled and dove down next to the portable-furnace of a human.

~*~

“Where have you been?! We were worried sick!” Katara shrieked, racing towards her brother as they came into view. “Why are you shirtless?”

“I don’t know if you noticed, Katara,” Sokka jeered, poking her ticklish sides to avoid hugs, “But there was a _storm?_ We waited it out in a cave.”

He held up his tunic. “And this is still wet, that’s why.”

Sokka decided to conveniently leave out the part where his tunic was still wet because they washed it in the creek after the storm cleared.

“Did you guys at least get food this time?” Toph groaned, feet up. “Or was it another impromptu extraction mission?”

“We got food,” Zuko assured, holding out a couple of fire ferrets they had hunted on the way back.

“ _And_ ,” Sokka beckoned Aang over with his finger, holding out the hessian sack. “For the vegetarian, some Air Temple culinary delights!”

Aang’s face moved quickly from confused to euphoric as he examined the contents of the sack, rushing over to Momo and feeding him plums while he babbled on to anyone in the vicinity about making a plum and pigweed broth that wouldn’t spoil for weeks so they could carry it with them.

Katara eyed Zuko up and down, still suspicious and clearly not happy with how long they took. She was probably losing her mind imagining all the ways that Zuko could have killed Sokka alone out in the woods. Katara’s gaze was stuck on something, and Sokka had a brief moment of panic where he thought maybe there was a giant stain they had somehow managed to miss-

“What’s that on your belt?” she questioned, pointing an accusatory finger. Sokka felt his heart plummet into his butt, until Zuko pulled the branches off his belt to show her.

“Oh!” Sokka explained, regaining his sense of feeling in his fingers with relief, “Those are plum tree branches, Zuko thinks the Air Nomads used to plant the cuttings to regrow the trees, we thought Aang would like to plant some.”

Katara, obviously taken aback by the thoughtfulness, went quiet and left to find Aang and his incessant chattering. Hakoda gently took the fire ferrets and moved to a smoothed rock to begin skinning and prepping for their meal.

Sokka spared a glance towards Zuko, met his eye, and nodded to himself slowly.

He slept with Zuko.

Okay.

~*~

“So,” Suki sat next to Sokka, handing him his bowl of ferret, rice, and roasted plums. “Zuko?”

Sokka’s breath hitched. They were sitting pretty far from the rest of the group, and Aang was telling an elaborate story of his time spent at the Western Air Temple when he went through his challenges to receive his tattoos. But still, if anyone was listening to them, they would maybe be able to hear.

“What about him?” Sokka played cool, trying to pretend like Suki wasn’t a highly trained Kyoshi warrior who specialized in the art of spying, and was pretty good reading people’s body language.

“I mean, you’ve spent the whole afternoon looking at him,” Suki nudged. “I, personally, am offended. I thought I’d be harder to get over.”

Sokka coughed on his food, catching the attention of Zuko and Katara, and Suki rubbed his back with a chuckle.

“Can we talk about this when I’m not eating?” Sokka whined. “Or at least when there’s not so many people around?”

Suki giggled, “Let’s go for a walk later then. Unless you have… _other plans?”_

“Suki!”

She laughed again, always finding humour at his demise, and they sat in a comfortable silence while they ate.

“I’ve missed you,” is all Sokka mumbled around a mouthful of a food, and Suki had beamed at him like it was the highest praise.

True to her word, she waited until they had finished eating and had left the temple to go walking before she spoke again. But, when she did start talking, Sokka worried she might not stop.

“So, are you going to talk now?” she nudged his elbow. “I know Zuko is a part of the gang now, but, he kind of burned down my village, and-”

“He’s changed, Suki-”

“I’m not saying he hasn’t! What I was saying was he burned down my village in search of you guys. He spent three years searching for Aang, and he’s the Firelord’s _son_. I’m wondering what happened that made you change your mind so quickly.”

Sokka nodded. It was a fair call.

“You of all people know it doesn’t actually take that much to change my mind,” he smiled at her. “Just facts and science, baby!”

“Are you referring to the time I beat your ass?”

“I absolutely am referring to the time you beat my ass.”

Suki giggled again and leant against his arm. “I missed you too, by the way.”

Sokka took comfort in her warmth, letting himself enjoy this moment, a brief break of peace in their never-ending stressful quest to save the world.

That was probably what he liked best about his time in the cave with Zuko (maybe only second to the part where he was ravished by a very attractive young man). Sokka felt like the inside of his head was constantly making whirring sound that droned on and on, constant fear and overthinking about what the worst possible outcome might be, and when he and Zuko where in the cave, the sound was paused for a brief moment in time.

The only other time he had really experienced that, when it went quiet, was sparring with Suki on Kyoshi Island. He and Suki had barely known each other, in the context of time, but sometimes he felt like she was the only person who really knew the deepest parts of him, parts she had accidentally stumbled across like they were in her path, parts of himself he had kept hidden with a thousand walls and guards for many years.

She just. Found them.

She glanced up at him and hummed. “You’re deep in thought.”

“Huh?”

“The top of your head is smoking.”

“Hey!” Sokka cried out, indignant. Suki, still giggling, patted his cheek.

“Really, though, what’s on your mind?”

Sokka sighed, slowing to a stop and holding Suki still. He sat down cautiously, offering a spot next to him. They were in the full moonlight, which made him chuckle to himself if a little cynically. Talking to his ex-girlfriend about his maybe boyfriend (or whatever Zuko was going to be) in the presence of his spirit ghost first girlfriend.

“How did you know about me and Zuko?” he asked finally, voice soft like he was whispering a secret. “Or, what do you know?”

Suki smiled at him.

“Sokka, I knew the second I saw you both at the Boiling Rock that something was going to happen, even if you didn’t know it yet. I can’t explain it, it was some kind of spiritual energy he was giving off. You both were on the same page, and even when you weren’t you were still in sync. You both knew where the other was at all times, like instinct. I thought you were already together until you spoke to me about us.”

That was a lot to process.

“Sokka,” she said softly. “You came back from the woods together and… I don’t know what it was but I knew.”

“What, because of how I looked at him?” he rolled his eyes.

“No,” Suki insisted. “Because of how he looked at _you_.”

That was somehow a lot more to process. Sokka didn’t want to process it.

“Can we go on a date?” Sokka asked.

Suki spluttered, head whipping. “What?”

“A date. Like, a fake date. A platonic date,” Sokka kept going. “To make up for when we were together but didn’t get to.”

“Sokka-”

“No, I mean it! With candles and flowers and we’ll have dinner-”

“Sokka, why?”

Sokka flicked her ankle, ignoring the little noise she made. “Because, I mean it. I missed you. I think you were right, to break up with me. But, I think that we, as two teenagers, deserve a little self-care in this great big war!”

Suki rolled her eyes but nodded, huffed, and leant her head into Sokka’s chest.

“I know you’re only saying this to avoid talking about Zuko, but… it is a big war… and I’m tired,” she murmured. “I can’t wait until this war is over and I can be with the other warriors. I miss them too.”

Sokka got the feeling that it was more of a case of one of the warriors in particular she was talking about, but he also got the sense that Suki didn’t want to go there tonight.

~*~

Watching Zuko fight his sister – and fall _more than once_ from _precarious places_ at _enormous heights_ – was terrifying. What was more terrifying was seeing just how good Azula was. And even more terrifying was the sudden realization that Zuko was a really, _really_ good bender.

“Oh, man, I could have died so many times,” Sokka muttered to himself, watching the siblings face off from his spot in Appa’s saddle. He was gripped with fear watching Zuko fight with Azula, blue and red, so powerful they blew each other up.

Once Zuko was safe with them on Appa, Sokka took the time to look Zuko up and down and appreciate just how talented he was. And, again, how hot firebending was.

~*~

“No problem, thanks for stoppin’ by!” Sokka pushed Zuko out of the tent. _Thanks for bringing up all the trauma and guilt I have about losing my mother when I’m just trying to have a nice night with my best friend._

Maybe Suki would help by distracting him by being funny and cute, or _something_. Anything to make him feel better.

Suki eventually found her way into his tent, face blushed a deep red and eyes wide as she took in the surroundings.

“So, I had a rose in my mouth but then Zuko walked in?” Sokka’s voice raised in pitch with each word, dying to tell someone and let out the tension he was holding in since the encounter.

Suki looked around the room, taking in the candles and flowers.

“Wow, you weren’t kidding, hey?” she chuckled. “Too bad Zuko walked in first, right?”

She caught his eye. “Unless that’s what you wanted?”

Sokka laughed a little without feeling, then quickly informed her that _no_ , in fact, even if he did harbor feelings for Zuko the mood was quickly ruined by the prince stirring up his repressed trauma.

Suki pat his back and stole a plum from the plate behind his back while Sokka talked it out.

~*~

Zuko must have had time to do some thinking while he and Katara were off on their excursion, because when he came back they suddenly decided to go to Ember Island for shelter, and once they had been settled for not even five minutes Zuko had approached Sokka and asked to speak with him privately later that night.

They walked along the beach, in silence for way too long – in Sokka’s opinion – and it took until Sokka sighed sharply and gave Zuko _a look_ before the prince opened his mouth.

“We… what we did… was good?” Zuko started softly, playing with his fingers and not looking Sokka in the eye, “I was thinking… it would be maybe good if we did that again? Y’know, we could sort of be together like that more?”

Sokka’s heart rate increased and his mouth clamped up, unable to open. Which probably didn’t matter because the young prince still had more to say.

“Not boyfriends or anything!” Zuko jumped in quickly, “I don’t think it’s the right time for anything like that but... that was fun, in the cave, with you. I’d be happy to do it again.”

That felt better to hear. Sokka really liked Zuko, and enjoyed being around him, but they were less than a week away from Sozin’s Comet and now wasn’t the time to date and find love or whatever. Sokka didn’t want to dance around with labels and dinner and telling his sister about his sexuality, and definitely didn’t want to deal with all of the time-wasting nonsense of the prying that would happen if he and Zuko did announce they were dating.

Because it wouldn’t just distract them from their training, it would distract everyone else too, having to adjust to the new dynamic.

But Sokka did want to be close to him, and did thoroughly enjoy their time together. No strings attached sounded really good.

Sokka smirked and glanced around to make sure no one was spying on them, and grabbed Zuko’s shoulders, planting a fat kiss on his sharp cheek.

“Toph can’t see where we are in the house because of the floorboards, if you wanted to visit later tonight.”

Zuko blushes and nodded, defending himself from Sokka’s energetic playful taps, tickles and punches as they made their way back to the house.

For the next few days it was a simple affair: they would be stressed about the impending doom ahead of them, and to handle that stress, Sokka and Zuko would get each other off. They didn’t tell anyone — and why would they, if it was only sexual? More often than not in the short space of time they had together, they were too stressed, upset or tired to actually be in the mood but they would stay together regardless, seeking comfort as friends. Other times they would seek each other out in the night, or in private during the day.

And mostly, it was nice. They enjoyed spending time together. Sokka was beginning to peel away layers which revealed Zuko had a sense of humour (who knew?), and Zuko was learning Sokka’s behavioural cues that meant he was about to start wigging out.

Sokka noticed that his sister and Aang clearly had something going on, something not exactly positive, and was re-affirmed in his decision to not tell people. They didn’t need personal drama getting in the way of _literally_ stopping the whole world from burning to ash.

~*~

The day of the comet arrived upon them, in the camp of the White Lotus, and after their discussion with Iroh about destiny and the plans for the day, everyone was getting ready to go. Sokka noticed Katara saying goodbye and good luck to Toph and Suki and even though the words weren’t spoken, he realised that she was preparing to say goodbye to someone she might never see again.

He had rushed off to find Zuko, who was strapping his knives on tight at the time, and it was like time stopped for a moment. Zuko looked up at him, just a human eye noticing movement, but Sokka could feel the fate and energy drowning the air between them, realising that today would be the day that everything changed.

Even if they both survived today – and that was an _if_ , not a when – then Zuko would take over as Firelord and Sokka would probably go back to the South Pole to begin training for taking over as chief. Their lives together were about to end.

Sokka ran into Zuko’s arms before he could stop himself, and he could feel the firebender trembling as well. He couldn’t speak, it was like his mouth was glued shut, and too dry to say anything even if he could open it. Zuko was warm and solid like a tangible thing he could hold onto when everything else felt temporary.

But now even Zuko might be temporary, and Sokka wasn’t ready to let go.

“Please be careful,” Sokka eventually gasped out, gripping Zuko’s robes tight. The prince had his face nestled into the crook of Sokka’s neck, and Sokka swore for a moment he could feel warm tears running down the back of his shoulder blade.

“Please, Zuko, I mean it, please be careful today,” he couldn’t stop talking now that he had started. “I just…”

Zuko moved their heads so that their foreheads were pressed together, and held shaking hands against the sides of Sokka’s face.

“ _You_ be careful,” he whispered, voice shaking. Their eyes were both squeezed shut, like if they opened their eyes and looked around the world would start turning again and they would have to leave.

“I love you,” Zuko whispered, so soft Sokka barely heard it, but he did.

Sokka moved back, eyes wide open now, and saw the look of horror on Zuko’s face as the prince realised what he had just said.

“I don’t-” he stuttered, “No, that-…”

Sokka hands were slack from the mild shock, and Zuko slipped out of his grip, the warrior’s feet planted like he was frozen. Zuko muttered something about needing to go, and wiped his face harshly.

“Look, that,” the prince started, voice still shaky, “Forget I said that. If we’re both alive at the end of today, I think it’s best that we don’t… I think it’s best that this ends… between us, whatever it is, we should stop.”

Zuko repeated that he had to leave and rushed off, still wiping his face and neck to remove evidence of tears.

Sokka stood there, with a cold crushing weight on his chest, unable to move. He caught a flash of Kyoshi green in the distance and was reminded that he was meant to be moving right now.

“Okay…” he whispered to himself, and forced his legs to move.

~~~~

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *puts protective armour on while i wait for the comments*
> 
> also, temporary-hamlet on tumblr drew wet cat zuko!! i've added the image into this chapter because i loved it so damn much.


	9. PART VII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> two things.
> 
> 1\. when i edited this i managed to delete sokka and suki’s break up. i'm very professional. have haphazardly thrown it back in here ugh i hope it doesn't feel out of place.
> 
> 2\. everyone was very upset and angry at zuko after the last chapter, i hope you guys are ready to redirect that fury at the other walnut in this clown duo.

Sokka explained everything to his sister.

He explained how it was accidental and casual and they were teenage boys full of hormones and stress and he didn’t mean to kiss him, but it happened anyway.

He explained that Suki broke up with him straight away, and was his absolute best friend. Suki had broken up with him – or at least, clarified that she didn’t want them to be together – the second they had reached camp. To her credit, she played the role right up until they got off the war balloon, then asked to speak with Sokka in private. She didn’t know what Sokka thought their relationship was, or if he had told Zuko she was his girlfriend, so to spare him any embarrassment she waited until they were in private to make clear she didn’t want to date anyone during the war.

Sokka had understood, he didn’t want a relationship during the war either, and it was hard to be in love with Suki when they had only spent a total of a few days together. He thought she was beautiful, and he did like her, he was enamored by her, but he had his own stuff going on and was okay with having Suki as a hot best friend for a little while until they figured out what they wanted.

He explained how Zuko broke it off when the comet came. How Zuko had made the decision and Sokka didn’t get the opportunity to contest it.

Katara, mad and confused initially, was now heartbroken for him. She took a breath and opened her mouth.

“And that’s it, right? The war ended, you went home with Dad and then a few months ago Dad took you fishing and said, ‘surprise! You’re marrying Zuko!’” Katara tried to fill in the blanks to wrap the story up. “Right?”

Sokka grinned sheepishly. “Uh, if we’re being honest… no?”

“ _Sokka_!”

“I can’t help it!”

“Yes, you can!” his sister groaned and buried her face in her hands. “What else happened between the comet and now?”

“We- I mean,” Sokka swallowed, “Bits and pieces! Just a couple times when the gang reunited after the war ended, you remember that? And then when Dad and I went to the Fire Nation for strategic planning-”

“Stop fucking Zuko!” Katara cried out.

“But we’re getting _married_ , Katara, I can’t stop _now! That’s my whole dilemma!”_

Sokka waved his arms as a symbol that they both needed to calm down.

Katara took the sign and calmed her breathing as well.

Sokka was her brother, and her closest friend. There was a part of Katara, way up the back, who wanted to scream at Sokka for being an idiot, and there was definitely a part of her who was grossed out and disgusted to learn how frequently her brother had been having sex with one of her closest friends – honestly she was just grossed out that he had been having sex at all. She was appalled most of all, though, to learn that this had been happening right in front of her, and that Sokka hadn’t told her.

She thought they were closer than that.

Katara took in the features on Sokka’s face. He was freaking out, if only a little.

She wasn’t sure why he neglected to tell her. But there were plenty of reasons – at the time that this all started she wasn’t exactly fond of Zuko, and there was the fact that Sokka was meant to take on their Dad’s position as chief someday, which he couldn’t do if he was implicated with the future Firelord, and Katara set her pride aside for a moment to reflect that Sokka probably didn’t tell her because for a long time the Southern Water Tribe has only allowed marriages that created babies. Even their aunt, Kirima, wasn’t allowed to marry because she was infertile. She wasn’t allowed to ‘take up the good men’.

Katara sighed and let Sokka continue talking.

“Look, the reason I’m telling you now is because…” Sokka swallowed the lump in his throat along with his pride. “Since I’ve been here it’s been weird, and awkward, and then we fought, and then yesterday we had a whole moment and… we _kissed_ , and he-”

“Ahem,” a voice cleared their throat behind them, and Sokka’s face turned beet red without having to look. It was just a cough but he knew that voice.

“Hello,” Zuko greeted them both. “I was hoping to speak with Sokka, but I can come back later-”

“Uh,” Katara stood quickly, hands folded politely behind her back, mostly to stop herself from exploding at her brother, “That’s okay, actually. I really need to think. You can take him.”

Zuko made a quiet joke to himself about Sokka’s family members offering him up to be taken.

Sokka felt like his stomach was going to fall out of his butt, but he gathered all the Water Tribe Warrior Strength he had and stood shakily, gulping as Zuko held out a hand to help him up. Sokka politely declined the hand, and winced as Zuko dejectedly returned his hands behind his back, looking at the grass.

Katara had already turned around, eyes closed as she tried to process the info-dump Sokka had unloaded. Sokka had been hoping she would help him out with the awkwardness of Zuko walking in on their conversation (their conversation _about Zuko_ ), but no. What are little sisters for if they aren’t throwing you under the bus, though, right?

Sokka felt like Zuko would relate but it was absolutely not the right time to make that joke.

Zuko wouldn’t look him in the eye, but gestured for Sokka to walk beside him as they left Katara by the lantern tree and walked further into the gardens.

The silence was grating at Sokka’s skin like needles, but he was terrified that if he broke it, the conversation would hurt more.

Zuko decided to test this hypothesis before Sokka could even prepare for it.

“Are you-... ashamed?”

 _Oh_ , it definitely hurt more than the silence.

“No!” Sokka waved his hands. “No, I’m not ashamed. I...”

He stopped them, making sure they were far enough away from Katara and faced Zuko.

 _Ack_ , time to be a big boy and have a grown-up conversation.

Zuko felt his face heat up as Sokka took his hand, fiddling with Zuko’s fingertips.

“I just. I don’t know what we are! And I don’t know how I’m meant to feel about you...”

The words tasted sour, and everything about their interaction – the honesty, the sappiness – it felt so off-brand in context to how they had been for the past year.

Sokka hated it. He wished they could go hit each other with wooden katanas for a bit and then magically everything would be fine again, but that’s not how it worked. Because Sokka wanted something, and there was no way to tell what Zuko wanted unless they actually spoke about it, which sucked.

Also, Zuko’s eyes were the _worst_ , Sokka had concluded. They were too pretty and _gold_ and he knew – he had seen it for himself – that Zuko could solidify his eyes into a terrifying poker face, but other times (like now) he let everything show.

Zuko was holding his breath, waiting for Sokka to speak again, but there was a kind and tender patience to his energy that Sokka would need to learn to associate with the Zuko he once knew.

“I was jealous of Mai,” Sokka spat.

Zuko’s eyebrow twitched and Sokka crossed his arms, childishly angered by having to admit his feelings.

“You’re close with her, and you love her, and I was- I _am_ jealous that you couldn’t be like that with me,” Sokka rolled his eyes at himself. “And when you came in last night… I was happy to ‘revise’. I just don’t know what I want, and I definitely don’t know what you want.”

Zuko nearly opened his mouth to speak but Sokka clearly had more to say.

“But the thing is, it doesn’t even matter, because if we weren’t about to get _married_ , maybe we could have a conversation like, ‘hey, do you want to go back to being fuck buddies?’, or maybe even, ‘hey, wanna be my boyfriend?’-” Sokka pretended to not notice Zuko’s lips part and his good eye widen when he said that, “-but the fact of the matter is that we _are_ getting married, so that changes _everything_.”

“Okay-”

“And what’s worse is that there _was_ something between us!” Sokka continued. “If we were just strangers it would be purely political, but we’re not! And I still don’t know what happened last night! If it was something I did, or said, or if you’re okay – I don’t-”

“Sokka!” Zuko cut off his ramblings, voice surprisingly authoritative, not the angry yelling that Sokka had become accustomed to from Zuko. He was calm.

Sokka needed to be calm.

“How can you be this calm??” Sokka cried. Zuko rolled his eyes.

“I was going to have an arranged marriage anyway, no matter what,” he explained. “That’s just how it is, being a prince. But…” Zuko trailed, “I’m _not_ calm.”

Sokka squinted.

“But you look so calm!”

“Someone has to!”

They both stopped, and Zuko held up a hand.

“That came out wrong,” he apologized, knowing that his control on his temper still slipped sometimes, and it wasn’t fair that Sokka had to bear the brunt of his slips in control. “I know this is hard, and I’m sorry. And I’m sorry for last night. I…”

Zuko took a moment to soak in Sokka. He recognized that maybe it wasn’t the most appropriate time to appreciate Sokka’s physical appearance but Zuko needed something to focus on for a second or his head was going to explode.

It was easier to focus on how Sokka’s hair had grown and what was his wolf-tail was now held up in a top-knot, and how being back in the South Pole had darkened his skin tone. Easier to let all of his attention be consumed by the scars, little white slits here and there across his face and neck, were now more apparent with the deeper tan, and the skin around his eyes had begun to firm, baby fat slowly falling away as he approached early adulthood.

Zuko loved Sokka’s eyes.

Shit, no, Zuko- _focus_.

“I don’t know what happened,” Zuko admitted. Sokka noticed the grimace settling into Zuko’s features and looked around, then sat down in the grass, pulling the prince with him.

Sokka put his hands over Zuko’s and waited for him to continue.

Zuko took a moment to process what Sokka had done, and that they were holding hands, then shook it off and tried to remember what he was saying.

“I’m sorry. I’m sorry for saying _that_ and then running out. I just. There was the moment in the gardens and I just-…” Zuko looked sheepish. “I think I want you back.”

Sokka felt a cold wind wash over his face and took a moment to process that it was actually a gust of wind, and not just a secondary effect of the weird feeling taking up his whole chest. His mouth opened before he could stop himself.

“We weren’t actually together, though…”

He watched in horror as Zuko froze and started to stand up, intent on leaving this conversation.

“Zuko, no,” Sokka held tight onto the prince’s hands, pulling him back down, urging him to stay. Grown up conversation. 

“I never said I didn’t want that,” his own words hit him like a punch to the gut to admit out loud. Sokka hadn’t even quite admitted to himself yet that he wanted Zuko, no matter how obvious it was.

The prince swallowed thickly, a blush coming to his cheeks. Sokka smiled, glad his own skin was too dark for a light blush to be so noticeable.

“I just…” Sokka huffed. “I want to know what you mean when you say you want me back. Because, last night was different to everything else and, on the day of the comet-”

Zuko winced and looked away.

Sokka came crashing back to earth out of the memory when he felt Zuko brush his fingers against his knee.

“I want…” he started, and couldn’t finish. Sokka sat patiently and waited.

“I don’t want this to be casual,” Zuko finally spat. “I want you to be with me, properly. That’s what I want. What do you want?”

Sokka moaned, putting his head in his hands.

“I don’t _know_ , Zuko. I barely know what I want for dinner, you can’t ask me things like that!”

Sokka sensed Zuko’s impending instinct to stand up and run away from this conversation again, and pre-emptively gripped Zuko’s wrist without even looking up.

“Everything has happening very quickly, and I think you’re over-looking a big glaring issue with this whole feelings-thing, and that is that we are _engaged_ , Zuko.”

That _was_ a big glaring issue that had been overlooked, to Sokka’s credit.

The prince began cautiously, “If we did get together, do you think getting married will really change anything?”

Sokka opened his mouth, about to yell because _how would marriage not change that situation_ , but Zuko continued, quickly, before Sokka could get too worked up.

“I mean, I know we’d legally be married, but… we would, hypothetically, still be able to take it slow, if you wanted. We’d have separate chambers, and would have our own work to do. Until I take over my Uncle’s place on the throne, we’re free to split off and travel as much as we want to get our time away from each other and visit family and friends. We could – you know if we were _maybe_ developing feelings – still even go on dates after the wedding ceremony.”

Sokka nearly opened his mouth, but both young men noticed at the same time that there were footsteps coming towards them, slow and heavy through the grass.

“To be continued,” Sokka muttered, letting Zuko pull away from him and stand.

Iroh appeared around the hedges and smiled at them.

“We are gathering to have tea before dinner, now that your sister and the Avatar have arrived,” he informed.

Zuko nodded curtly and sped off towards the palace, leaving Sokka sitting in the garden. Iroh watched his nephew and chuckled.

“Do not take it personally, Zuko spent his whole life in these gardens,” the old man shook his head, offering an arm out to Sokka. “He doesn’t realise how confusing and hard to navigate they are. He probably thinks you’re right behind him.”

Sokka nodded, resolving to let the old man go on believing that Zuko is just eager to get to the Avatar, not eager to leave the conversation they were having. He takes Iroh’s arm and rises, letting him guide them back to the palace.

~*~

Over dinner, Katara caught his gaze many times, and Zuko actively avoided looking at her. He had most definitely heard more of their conversation than he made his presence known for, the little jerk.

Katara – for once, thankfully – didn’t bring up the subject Sokka was actively avoiding. She made polite conversation with the two of them, and happily boasted about the work her and Aang were doing out in the rural areas of the Earth Kingdom. In their early months after Ozai’s defeat, they spent most of their time out on the sea spreading the word of peace, informing distant soldiers that the Hundred Years War was over, and even helping navigate soldiers back to their homelands. They spent many months searching for lost Water Tribe warriors, out on the open sea, who didn’t have the same communication methods that the Fire Nation and Earth Kingdom did.

Katara and Aang happily chattered about his for a good half hour before Sokka groaned loudly and said, “come on, guys, we _finished_ saving the world!” and they spent the next three hours gossiping and making fun of each other, reminiscing about their travels that felt so long ago, now.

As it drew later into the night, Aang and Katara eventually called it in, yawning and stretching. It had been a long trip, and there was so much to eat at dinner it was making them all a little tired.

The four of them wandered down the halls, still laughing and red-cheeked from dinner, and when Katara and Aang split off, Sokka quietly stayed by Zuko’s side as they walked by Sokka’s door and continued on. Zuko shot a look towards Sokka but said nothing, moving closer as they walked down the corridors together, following the confusing paths towards the prince’s chambers.

They reached the doors of Zuko’s rooms and Sokka nodded to the guards while Zuko mumbled something to them about having a private conversation, and asked the guards to leave their post for the night.

Zuko held the door for Sokka, ushering him in with a smirk as the guards moved further away. They wouldn’t abandon the door, Zuko knew that, but they might respect his privacy for the night.

“Don’t run off this time,” Sokka murmured, grabbing the front of his prince’s shirt while Zuko locked the door. “Please?”

~*~

Officer Jiaying could see her partner’s face reddening as he inadvertently listened to the conversation – unfortunately, very clear and audible – happening on the other side of the door.

 _Newbie_ , she mused to herself. He’d probably come around in a few weeks or two. Jiaying herself knew nearly every single one of the former Firelord Ozai’s kinks without ever really even looking at his face, and though it had scarred her for life and ruined some food for her, the knowledge was a part of her world now.

“Hey,” Jiaying called out softly to her partner, “To take your mind off it, just think about how quickly you would be executed if Prince Zuko knew you were listening to him.”

The poor man nearly fainted and Jiaying couldn’t help but cackle lowly to herself. If they had to listen to two awkward teenagers talk about their feelings, their virginity, and then have to listen to their young prince take said virginity, she might as well keep herself occupied and terrorize the new guy about it.

~*~

“You okay?” Sokka asked quietly, in the hardened quiet of the room.

The walls of the room sang with everything that had just happened between them, and the air around them filled only with the sound of heavy breathing as the haze slowly faded. The sun had gone down so long ago, and candles around the room had snuffed themselves out, burning long enough to drown in their own wax.

Zuko was grinning up at him, wider than Sokka thought he had ever seen Zuko smile, and laughing lightly under his breath at the question.

“Yes,” he nodded, smile spreading impossibly wider, arms coming up to wrap around Sokka’s neck. He pulled Sokka down against his chest, squeezing his head to tease him, and Sokka made a yelping noise but didn’t move away.

As the energy in the room faded, as their breathing steadied, as the moonlight filled the room, Zuko went and opened his mouth.

“So,” he huffed, his hair still stuck to his forehead with sweat, “What does this mean?”

Sokka wanted time to stop, looking down at Zuko and watching his smile drop more and more the longer it took Sokka to answer.

It broke his heart, watching Zuko’s features flatten. Sokka wanted to give him an answer that would make Zuko smile again, and he knew which answer that was, but he didn’t know how to say it.

Zuko nodded and rolled Sokka off him, getting up from the bed and typing his hair up, movements quick and rattled.

“Where are you going?” Sokka asked, still sitting upright on the bed. He watched Zuko hurriedly pull his pants on, picking up clothes from around the floor.

“Does it matter?”

“Zuko-”

The door closed before Sokka could finish.

~*~

When Zuko returned, Sokka was asleep, and he was shivering.

The prince climbed into the bed, held Sokka’s body as close as he could without waking him up, and waited for the nearing dawn.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> i mean at this point i'm just an angst machine


	10. PART VIII

“Sokka?” Katara’s voice carried in the empty hallways in the early morning.

Aang had woken up with the sunrise, and when he noticed Katara was awake on the other side of the room, he announced that he was going to go and look for Zuko to see if they wanted to practice firebending forms like the old days, maybe even spar together. He had mumbled something about how firebenders rise with the sun and had skipped off, Katara still too groggy to really process his words.

Unfortunately, she couldn’t fall asleep after that anyway, so she decided to go and annoy her big brother into having juice and breakfast and finishing their conversation from yesterday.

She had knocked on his door, asked the nearby guards if Sokka was already up, and was unsurprised when they said he hadn’t gotten out of his room yet.

There was no answer, so she knocked and called again.

Time for a Water-Tribe-style wakeup call then.

Katara winked at the guard and opened Sokka’s door, bending water from the vase of firelilies in the hallway in preparation to ruin his morning.

Except the bed was empty.

Katara frowned, then sighed with realization, and bent the water back into the vase.

“Excuse me,” she asked the guard politely, “Could you show me to Prince Zuko’s room?”

~*~

“Hey, Aang,” Zuko mumbled as he was greeted by the young Avatar. He had been sitting quietly, meditating as the sun rose slowly.

“Good morning, Sifu Hotman!”

Zuko grumbled but Aang caught the corner of his mouth turn up.

The airbender immediately ruined the peaceful silence by launching into a chattering babble about practicing their firebending together, and usually Zuko wouldn’t have minded, except that he had been listening to Sokka-babble non-stop for about a month now, and also that he often looked to the mornings to find inner strength and patience to deal with general Fire Nation politics, and he hadn’t slept at all last night.

“Hey, Aang?” Zuko sighed, holding a finger to his lips and gesturing for Aang to join him in _quiet_ meditation.

Aang apologized and jumped onto the slab of stone next to him.

There was a brief moment of peace before Aang opened his mouth again.

“Hey, Zuko?” he started, “I’m really sorry, I just have a quick question?”

“Mm?”

“Do you know where Sokka went last night? I tried to bring his shoes into his room last night but he wasn’t there! I asked the guards and they said he was safe in the palace, just staying in a different room, but they wouldn’t tell me which room he was in. Do you know which room he was in?”

~*~

“Sokka!” Katara bellowed, throwing Zuko’s doors open.

As she expected, Zuko had left in the early hours of the morning with the rise of the sun, and Sokka was in his bed.

“Katara?!” Sokka screeched, covering himself in the silk blanket. “What are you doing in here?! What in the _ever-loving fuck_ are you doing in here?!”

Katara rolled her eyes and closed the door.

“Sokka, yesterday, when I said ‘stop fucking Zuko’, I meant _stop fucking Zuko_!” Katara whisper-hissed, taking note of the state of the room with disgust. “Oh, for crying out loud!”

“This is Zuko’s private room, Katara, you can’t just burst in!”

“And what exactly are _you_ doing here, then, in _‘Zuko’s private room’_??”

Sokka stopped, deadpan, and looked his sister in the eye.

“We both know the answer to that question, Katara, don’t make me degrade myself.”

Katara rolled her eyes again and put her hands on her hips.

“Well,” she tilted her head. “Are you going to get dressed and meet me for breakfast or are we going to have this conversation here?”

Sokka had never wanted to be a bender more than in that moment. All the times he wished he could bend to help in battle, all the nights he stayed up feeling inferior, all of those wishes paled in comparison to the wish he had right now, which was to be able hit his sister in the face with a rock. Or whoosh her out the door (with air or water, he didn’t care), or even throw a fireball at her. Anything to get her outside of this room without getting his junk out on display.

“Give me five minutes,” he groaned.

Satisfied, Katara left the room. Sokka stuck his face into the pillow.

“Why couldn’t I be an only child?”

~*~

Zuko wanted to die. Only a little, but the feeling was very prominent. Maybe not _die_ , but he certainly wanted to be swallowed up by earth and never have anyone pull him out ever again.

He couldn’t lie to the Avatar, especially not when the Avatar was one of his closest friends and was destined to find out anyway.

Zuko didn’t want to out Sokka, but also was 99% sure that Aang knew Sokka was bisexual anyway. Well, obviously, they were getting married, so Aang knew that Sokka was at least on some level not entirely straight. And, importantly, he knew for a fact that Sokka had technically outed Zuko to Katara only yesterday so maybe this was the fair thing to do.

And Zuko didn’t particularly want to talk about Sokka, either, but he was a terrible liar and couldn’t see a single way out of this web that Aang had accidentally thrown him into.

Besides, nothing killed Zuko more than lying to Aang. He wasn’t naïve or gullible, but he was so innocent and trusting, and Zuko had done so much wrong in his life, he couldn’t bear to break the trust of an honest monk.

“Sokka spent the night in my room, with me,” Zuko choked out, trying to keep his face composed and his voice even. “We…”

Technically, Aang was young and innocent enough that Zuko could white-lie his way out of this and just let him believe that Sokka had a platonic sleep-over in Zuko’s room.

Aang, apparently, was more mature than Zuko gave him credit for, and raised an eyebrow.

“We’re…” the prince sighed. Maybe it was time to come clean, fully. “Involved? We’ve been together on and off for… a while now, I guess. A little more than a year.”

Aang’s jaw was on the floor, and Zuko winced at the honesty, having to look away to try and keep a lid on the feeling in his chest.

 _“What?!”_ Aang cried out. “What do you mean _a year_?! How did no one know?!”

Zuko winced again at the yelling, then realized Aang wasn’t disgusted or actually upset, he was just shocked at his own naivety. Zuko decided to tuck that away for later and when he felt in a better mood he could reflect on why he thought Aang would be upset with him for the revelation.

Aang blinked at him, then cried out again, “What does ‘a while’ mean?!”

Zuko held his hands up in surrender. “Only technically!”

Aang looked like he might pop a vessel.

“Explain what ‘technically’ means!” he insisted, throwing his hands up.

Zuko explained.


	11. PART IX

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hey hey kids, in-world homophobia warning and also we're gonna get a bit sexy in this one again.
> 
> also there's a kinsey scale reference because i will throw all world-building out the window for the sake of a mediocre joke.

Zuko, unfortunately, knew he was gay very early on.

It was hard for him to avoid, and though he kept it pretty well hidden, he always felt like he had a tattoo on his forehead that said “Kinsey 6”.

This was, of course, not acceptable. He was the eldest child which meant he was likely due to take the throne, and if he did then he would need to produce an heir.

In the Fire Nation, they didn’t care about gender the same way he noticed other countries did. In his travels to the Northern and Southern Water Tribes, he had learnt that women were forbidden to engage in combat, weren’t meant to learn waterbending, weren’t allowed to hunt or wield weapons, and weren’t allowed to rule as chief.

This was used as evidence that the Water Tribes were made up of backwards savages, which is what they taught in Fire Nation schools. Because in Zuko’s country, women were never separated from men and given these extra rules. It felt so alien to him as a concept. His sister had always excelled, all the women in his life had excelled – and it was never spoken of in the context of their gender, it was just that Zuko was pathetic and weak and the girls were just good at what they did.

However, despite their equality in gender, the Fire Nation was not without prejudice (does the incident of mass genocide need to be brought up again, or?) and one thing Zuko knew he would never be allowed to do was announce his sexuality publicly.

If he were a commoner, or even just a noble, it would be fine. He could start a life and get married to a man and it would be public knowledge and that would be fine. But Royal Blood wasn’t allowed to be tainted with Gay Blood, and the last time a Fire Nation royal family member announced he liked men, he was publicly shunned for insulting the royal family and refusing to provide a viable heir, castrated, and banished to the far eastern Earth Kingdom with his head shaved.

Of course, the past three Firelords before Iroh have been homicidal maniacs who believed they were more powerful than the spirits themselves, so there’s no surprise that this kind of punishment of sexuality wasn’t technically a legal thing, just a prejudice thing.

Either way, Zuko wasn’t about to follow in that particular family member’s footsteps. He’d like to remain as intact as possible.

Zuko, technically, never really had a ‘gay awakening’. He just knew. It was a part of him that he knew early on, and learnt about himself within the same context of learning it was something to keep to himself.

Which he did.

He experimented with himself a bit. After being banished at thirteen and hitting puberty while out on the open sea, most of the knowledge he learnt about his body and his sexuality was overhearing crude conversations while docked at ports or exploring rural villages that the Avatar could possibly be hiding out in.

Soldiers, of all nations, were vulgar and despicable a lot of the time. A particularly brave Earth Kingdom soldier once made a comment about Zuko’s young and supple form as they were preparing to board their ship and sail off, and Zuko had been rushed onto the deck by his crew so wasn’t able to watch the spectacular show of searing-hot flames that his Uncle produced. It was a harsh warning that definitely scarred the man more than words ever could.

But these vulgar soldiers did – every so often – provide nuggets of knowledge that were actually useful, usually when exchanging crude stories with one another, which gave Zuko the general idea of how sex worked and what happened at the end.

It wasn't until he was sixteen years old and stepped foot on the snow at the South Pole and met this twiggy little fifteen year old with a very attractive haircut and an attitude Zuko could appreciate, it wasn't until then that Zuko really felt anything for anyone else in that way.

He was at sea for three years and hadn’t really met another boy his own age – ever. And though he liked him about as much as a person likes a mosquito, he couldn’t stop his brain from filing Sokka away as an attractive face to insert into his sexual fantasies.

He didn’t like him, he found Sokka a nuisance and an idiot – standing between Zuko and his destiny all the time, and the kid didn’t even know how to fight. He was a mosquito that just wouldn’t die.

But, he _was_ cute.

~*~

After choosing the side of ‘evil’ and going home with his sister, he had all the time in the world to experiment and explore, technically, but he didn’t have the brain capacity to even think about his sexuality.

Not with Mai hanging off his shoulder – such a good, beautiful sport, and she was so fucking smart Zuko loved her so much – playing the part of girlfriend to buy them both an alibi.

Not with his father and his sister inviting him back into their lives, making him feel like he was walking on a tightrope and at any given moment he could plummet back into disownment.

Not with his guilt consuming every breath he took.

~*~

Reaching the Western Air Temple should have felt life changing, with the decision he had made, but it just made him sad and guilty and bogged down by the powerful memories this place held. Not just his personal memories either.

This was the place where his people massacred Aang’s people, and it was in the same place that Zuko intended to ask Aang to trust him.

And, yeah, it took nearly dying while attempting to kill a powerful assassin before he gained that trust, but he did it. Having Aang’s trust was similar to holding a tiny turtle-crab in his hands, he knew it wasn’t that breakable, but it felt so fragile, or like it would crawl away at any given moment, or if he gripped too tightly he would break it himself.

He knew Aang would be easier to win over than the Water Tribe siblings. Toph seemed to be pretty understanding about the whole foot-burning, but Katara was up-in-arms about it.

Sokka… was interesting. Sokka didn’t trust him, Zuko could sense that, but he wasn’t hostile the way Katara was. In fact, the second he had the chance he immediately began to joke around as if there was no animosity, and Zuko assumed that Sokka had been sitting on some of these jokes for a while as they felt forced and out-of-context and most of them were about his ponytail.

Sokka would joke around with him, but wouldn’t come closer than at least a foot and a half away. Zuko, not a man of many words and often the finding himself hanging back when the gang sat together, noticed through observation that Sokka was constantly on edge when Zuko was present, and most importantly he noticed that’s Sokka’s eyes were nearly always transfixed on Zuko’s hands, watching out for a surprise attack of fire.

He seemed to settle down after he and Aang returned from the Sun Warrior Temple, probably realising that if Zuko wanted to kidnap Aang that was a perfect time to do it, and the fact that they returned indicated Zuko was actually kind of trust-worthy.

Sokka remarked that, actually, he was just happy that Zuko would finally stop whining about his lack of firebending.

Their excursion to the Boiling Rock, obviously, was a turning point for his relationship with Sokka. It gave Zuko a chance to prove to Sokka that he was valuable to the team and that he could be trusted, and he got to learn who Sokka was as a person rather than seeing him as an obstacle to his target.

Zuko had been so frustrated and terrified when they landed inside the prison, so mad that Sokka had been so negligent with their lives, but watching Sokka be real and personal about ‘winging it for once’, watching him shove their evidence into the boiling water, something changed his perspective. In hindsight, he would refer to this as the beginning of his crush on Sokka.

And maybe he showed off his breath of fire in the hopes to entice Sokka, maybe he didn’t.

That’s no one’s business but Zuko’s.

After that, he couldn’t help himself. He fell and he fell hard, and he hated it – and then he, for real, fell over and fell hard, straight on top of Sokka in the middle of a forest somewhere, and completely froze up.

Something he didn’t expect from Sokka, although maybe he should have, was that Sokka wasn’t delicate or mushy, and he wasn’t into any abusive hate-fucking either. He seemed to just want whatever was fast and hot and a little aggressive but in a fun way not a painful way. When they were together it was like wrestling or sparring, only their pants were down.

When they were finished, he couldn’t help himself. He saw Sokka rubbing his arms and shivering, and couldn’t bring himself to pass up the opportunity to be close to him. He could blame it on survival, or trying to avoid the common cold sweeping through their camp and rendering their little team useless, but he just wanted to cuddle Sokka.

So, he did.

~*~

Watching Katara bloodbend was one of the most terrifying moments of Zuko’s short life. And he had lived some very terrifying moments.

He didn’t realise this was even a possibility, to have your own autonomy completely dismissed and have your body controlled like that. Because Katara could make the choice to stop the blood entering the heart, if she wanted, and there was nothing anyone could do about it. You couldn’t defend against it, couldn’t block that kind of attack, couldn’t retaliate.

It was terrifying, and it led Zuko to a very important conclusion: he should just do whatever he wanted.

He wanted to be with Sokka, in whatever capacity that looked like, and had been avoiding confronting this issue because he was worried about what would happen to them when he became Firelord.

But watching Katara contort that man’s body made him realise that he could die at literally any given time in this war, probably wouldn’t survive becoming the new Firelord, or maybe – a truly gut-wrenching thought – Sokka wouldn’t survive. So it didn’t matter, because it’s not like his father could hate him any more for it if he somehow managed to find out, and he and Sokka could work everything out in regards to the future of the relationship when their survival was a known factor.

So, he left Aang with the task of discovering how to defeat the Firelord without violence, and tapped Sokka on the shoulder asking for a private word.

~*~

Then he did some dumb shit and said some dumb things and ruined one of the few good things he ever had, and the worst part was that he had to watch Sokka’s face when he said it.

~*~

On the day of the comet, after everything, after his father was defeated and Azula was taken away, the Fire Nation needed a new leader and they refused to wait even an hour because they need to have a leader in place at all times.

Zuko and Aang were escorted by a ceremonial officiant down some halls, heading towards the courtyard where a crowd of all nations had gathered, and Zuko panicked. He had stopped dead in his tracks, looked at them both, and run as fast as he could in the opposite direction.

Then – taking the most mature course of action, obviously – he had shut himself away in his old bedroom, barred the door, and was refusing to let anyone in.

Zuko was still in so much pain when Iroh arrived on Fire Nation soil and came to find him, and when Zuko cried, he cried because there was so much weighing on his chest and he could not hold a single part of it, not even if he tried. And he didn’t try, because he didn’t want to try, he just wanted to be held by his uncle, who always cared about him no matter what.

Iroh cradled him gently and brushed his hair and kissed his head and told him it was okay, and that he loved him.

Zuko couldn’t help it, he spilled everything about him and Sokka, and the stupid thing he said, and how his dad was gone and now he has to be Firelord and how he physically couldn’t breathe properly and he didn’t know if it was the lightning that burnt his insides or the panic attack.

“I’ve needed you,” Zuko whispered, hiccupping. “I need you now, please, Uncle I don’t know what to do!”

Iroh hushed him gently. “I appreciate that, nephew, but I think you are doing very well on your own. You are stronger than you give yourself credit for.”

Zuko looked up at his Uncle with (what would have been, without all the snot and tears) a withering glare, not wanting to address the very clear fact that he was mid-breakdown and it was hard to feel strong.

“When a pot boils over, you lift the lid to release the steam so that you have enough time to think and to turn the heat down,” his uncle said in a soft voice. “Crying is not weakness, you are just releasing steam.”

“I can’t do this,” Zuko sobbed. It was like the dam had broken, after that, and he repeated it over and over and over, sobbing into his Uncle’s chest. “I can’t, I can’t! I can’t do this, Uncle, please, I can’t do it!”

His Uncle kissed his head and smoothed his hair, then rose to stand and whispered to the guards at the door, grabbing the ceremonial official by the arm and dragging him out the room.

When his Uncle returned an hour or so later, he had a crown on his head and people were announcing his arrival as “Firelord Iroh”.

“I have addressed our people,” he said in a hushed tone, running his hand over Zuko’s hair. “I have told them that I do not intend to rule until death, or interrupt the lineage of the Firelord, and that you are still destined to take over. But not for a year or so, when you are old enough, and have regained your strength. Your people understood.”

~*~

Three months after the end of the war, everyone received a note from Toph who explained that she was bored and insisted on everyone meeting her at the Beifong Estate in the Earth Kingdom, with a date range she expected everyone to clear their schedules for. She must have dictated one note and had it copied for them all, because the note included little quips at all of them, such as “Sparky, you aren’t the Firelord yet, none of us will believe you if you ditch us for phoney-baloney ‘meetings’”.

Zuko had smiled at the note fondly, a pang in his heart as he thought about how much he missed that gang of idiots. And apparently, Toph had reconciled with her parents to some degree, and he felt a pang of something when he thought about that, too.

He informed his uncle, and a couple of attendants, about his plans to travel to the Earth Kingdom, and arranged for transport for the date and time that Toph had set for them.

When Zuko eventually arrived, he was the second to get there, and was escorted to the rose gardens around the back of the estate where he found Toph and Suki sharing a cup of tea by one of the fountains.

“Zuko!” Suki waved him over – and honestly, it was a bit of a weird feeling sometimes when Suki was nice to him, because they hadn’t really developed a relationship other than burning down her village and sleeping with her ex-boyfriend (which he was pretty sure she didn’t know about). But, regardless, Suki was such a warm and gracious presence that he couldn’t ever find himself saying no to her.

It wasn’t long before Zuko heard the familiar sound of an air bison making its way through the sky, and he cast his eyes upwards to find Appa slowly floating towards them.

Suki was already up and waving before the bison touched the ground, and Toph also rushed out of her seat to greet them. Zuko found himself having to convince his legs to move, ignoring the weird twisting feeling in his stomach as stood.

Katara and Aang jumped down off of Appa, diving into a flurry of hugs, and Zuko noticed that Sokka also took a moment to breathe before he dismounted. Once he was on the ground, though, he seemed fine, jumping into Suki’s arms and picking her up off the ground, to her affronted squeals.

Zuko let himself be squashed by the pressure of Katara and Aang both covering him in their own limbs, and pretended not to notice when Sokka kept his distance.

“So,” Aang piped up when they had finished with all the reunion hugging (Katara was still attached to Zuko’s side, commenting that she was enjoying his warmth after spending a month in the freezing Southern Air Temple and flying Appa at high and frigid altitudes for the better half of the day).

“Now what?”

Toph led them into the house and through to the front of the establishment where a carriage was waiting for them, the driver happy to toss their luggage onto the back. She explained, as they piled in, that the Beifong family had an entire villa at a local bathhouse, and that Toph felt it was appropriate after months of world-saving and then world-restoring, to have a little rest and relaxation as a group again.

Appa and Momo both were going to get their own pampering as well, staying at her family’s estate. With all the food and attention they could ever ask for, Aang would probably have some trouble convincing them to leave when the trip was over.

When they eventually arrived at the bathhouse, even Zuko was impressed. It wasn’t huge or magnificent, not to him at least, but it was elegant and decadent, covered in beautiful greenery inside and out, boasting the use of herbal bath salts and fresh heated water, as well as other spa treatments.

The villa had multiple rooms, so everyone got their own room to pick to stay in for the time that they were there.

Toph and Zuko ended up standing next to each other while the others ran around picking their rooms and gawping at the beauty of the villa.

“Civilians,” Toph scoffed fondly. Zuko snorted and nudged her.

“That’s right, you and I high-society kids are in this together trying to keep the peasants from embarrassing us,” he drawled sarcastically.

“Exactly! I knew you’d get it,” she laughed, wandering off to claim her own room.

The central room that they stood in had a heated bath directly in the middle of the room, surrounded by decorative stone that had little trays and holes in the stones that Zuko noticed were for keeping drinks on ice and the trays for food and glassware.

The villa continued on past the main area, and Toph was eager to show all of it off. Not because she wanted them to know how luxurious her lifestyle was, but because Toph enjoyed the surprise in her friends’ voices when they were treated with that same luxury. Toph, though she’d never admit it, enjoyed taking care of her friends.

They began by having a soak and catching up on everything that had been happening in their separate lives, and then dinner, and then bed.

And then something between Zuko and Sokka just… exploded.

Zuko wasn’t sure exactly what set it off, he wasn’t sure what the spark was that lit the powder keg but what he did know was that it was, metaphorically, a _very full_ powder keg.

It had only been a few short months since the day of the comet, and the feelings were still raw. They were peaceful, for now, and hadn’t let anything on, but Zuko could feel the bittersweet blend of contempt and longing whenever Sokka looked at him, and it paired nicely with the guilty twisting of Zuko’s heart that felt like getting shot with lightning all over again.

And Zuko was _angry_.

He didn’t know if the anger was well-founded or if it was just an instinctual response he had to feeling any kind of complex emotion, but either way he felt angry. Angry that Sokka was treating him this way, angry that Sokka was bringing things out of his heart he didn’t want to ever reach sunlight, angry that Mister ‘I Don’t Want To Label This’ – that Mister ‘ _No-Strings-Attached’_ – had the _nerve_ to look at him like that because Zuko had ended something they decided would be casual.

He waited until they had all gone off to sleep in their respective rooms before approaching Sokka. He knocked on the door and waited tensely.

The second the door opened, all of Zuko’s thoughts left his head, because Sokka’s hair was down and he had that upset-and-grumpy look on his face that made Zuko want to burn whoever hurt him to a crisp. Except that it was Zuko that had hurt him.

Which, helpfully, brought the reason he was there back to the forefront.

“Uh,” was all that came out of the prince’s mouth, and Sokka’s eyes narrowed.

“Look,” Zuko stepped into the room and closed the door behind him, locking it. “I’m sorry, for-”

“I don’t want an apology,” Sokka cut him off, stepping back and picking his things up around the room to have something to do with his hands. “There’s nothing to apologise for.”

Zuko’s good eye narrowed and he crossed his arms.

“Then stop looking at me like I killed your polar-dog puppy.”

Sokka sent Zuko a withering glare and threw the things in his hands down, marching over with a pointed finger and poking it into Zuko’s chest (still careful to avoid the still-healing scar).

“Listen here, _buddy_ ,” he spat, “You came here, you came to _me_. I didn’t come into your room, I’m happy to leave everything where it was, there’s nothing to talk about. Whatever happened between us was casual, remember?”

Zuko, never one to back down, leant into Sokka’s accusing finger, their faces close and eyes locked.

“Then why do you keep looking at me like that?”

Sokka huffed something the sounded like a growl and stepped forward, backing Zuko up against the door.

“What did you come here for?”

Zuko did, originally come here to apologise and maybe talk things through to closure or something, but now he had testosterone coursing through every part of him and his mind was clouded by the pressing need to win this argument.

Sokka had one hand pressed against the door, right next to Zuko’s head and the prince honestly felt that Sokka knew exactly what it was doing to him.

Zuko was, probably, the one who initiated but he also kind of blacked out for a second and all of a sudden his mouth was on Sokka’s and the warrior’s hands were clawing at his back and Zuko was very aggressively pulling at Sokka’s hair with one hand and grabbing his butt with the other.

The rest of the night kind of wrote itself out – they stumbled onto the bed and what started out aggressive turned into soft and tender while still rushed and hot. Sokka and Zuko style.

It only took a total of five minutes post-orgasm before the reality of what happened kicked in.

“Shit,” Sokka cursed. Zuko agreed.

“This…” the prince started. “Did this happen?”

“No,” Sokka shook his head, “This never happened. Yeah?”

“Yeah.”

So what if he started kissing Sokka’s neck? Sue him.

“I’ve missed you…”

“Zuko,” Sokka sighed, heaving himself up to sit on the prince’s chest. “No. _No_ , Zuko, we aren’t doing this. I meant it, before.”

Zuko shook his head, realising that saying it while kissing Sokka’s neck had muddled the meaning.

“I mean, I miss hanging out with you. You know, without all the glaring and pouting. I miss having you as my friend.”

Sokka paused, face unchanging as he contemplated. His eyes were locked with Zuko’s and the firebender felt like he was under trial in the midst of the silence.

“Okay,” Sokka smirked, holding out his hands to shake on the deal, “Friends.”

Zuko shook with a dumb smile, appreciating that making a deal to be friends while sitting naked on top of one another was certainly something. He wasn’t sure exactly what it was but it was something.

Sokka let his hands rest on Zuko’s chest, head tilted like he had a bad idea, and he leant down to kiss Zuko’s neck. Very friendly.

“So, if this didn’t happen… if we did it again, that also doesn’t count, right?”

~*~

When Sokka and his father arrive on the docks of the Fire Nation, Zuko nearly hides himself behind his Uncle in a childish show of guilt which was also impossibly mixed with arousal.

Because, listen, Sokka looked really, _really_ good, okay?

It had only been a few months since he had seen Sokka last but apparently a few months back home had been enough. Sokka’s shoulders were broad before but now his arms and chest had started to fill out as well. The baby fat had started to fall from his face, sharper cheekbones reminiscent of Hakoda. His hair is still in the wolf tail (still cut short, unlike the other warriors, and Zuko thinks it’s _fantastic_ ) with the shaved sides and Zuko feels heat in every inch of his being just thinking about what his hair would look like let down now, with all the extra muscle to go with it.

Zuko felt like someone should spray him with a water bottle.

_Maybe Sokka could spray him with a water bottle-_

No!

All thoughts flew from his head the second Sokka meets his eye, running to greet each other in a warm embrace. Sokka smells different to the way Zuko once knew him, but underneath the salt water there was something familiar. Spicy and sweet.

_Jesus Christ, Zuko, are you smelling him now, what-_

Zuko realised in that moment that he couldn’t do it, he couldn’t be around Sokka and also act like a normal human being. Flashbacks from their night together at the bathhouse kept flickering through his traitorous brain, crude and vulgar images filling all of his thinking space.

Nope, Zuko couldn’t do it.

“I deeply apologise, but I’m meant to be attending a meeting,” Zuko shook his head, showing regret. “I wanted to greet you, but-”

“Go!” Sokka urged, because _of_ _course_ Sokka believed Zuko was shirking his duties just to greet them, _of course_ Sokka blindly believed him. “I’ll see you later!”

Zuko regretted leaving them in the hands of his uncle without an actual urgent matter to attend to. Well. There _was_ an urgent matter that he should probably attend to, but it was in no way political and did not involve a meeting.

He had caught up with Sokka later that night and apologized for rushing out. Sokka, with his surprisingly endless patience, insisted that Zuko had no obligation to hang out with him, and in the same breath, Sokka produced a bottle of moonshine from his robes and winked, ushering Zuko back into his chambers.

The rest of the night had been blurry – the Southern Water Tribe knew how to distil a strong drink, that’s for sure – but Zuko had been fully aware of what he was doing when he put his hand on Sokka’s inner thigh.

Despite the blurriness, Zuko couldn’t forget how the rest of the night went, as if waking up next to Sokka’s body the next morning didn’t jog his memory anyway.

~*~

Nearing the end of winter, Zuko invited everyone to the Fire Nation for another catch up – dinner and travelling into Caldera City for the Fire Days Festival. Suki had sent an apology that she was in the midst of an intensive training regime with some new warriors, and Toph had responded that she had ‘very important phoney-baloney meetings’ with an explanation at the bottom of the note (which Zuko is convinced that she didn’t dictate but that the scribe had jotted it in) that she was actually, in fact, helping Suki train the new warriors.

Katara, Aang and Sokka all agreed to come along, and had been eager to attend the festival again without being in hiding this time.

Well, technically they were still trying to be stealthy and blend into the crowd, but that was more because they were travelling with the Avatar and the future Firelord rather than fearing for their lives.

Zuko had shown them around, explaining that half of the benders aren’t actually that talented – pointing out that most of them didn’t have the control over their energy to even create their own fire, but they had mastered harnessing the fire for fun tricks instead. The other half were soldiers, decommissioned, brilliant benders who had retrained for entertainment.

He helped them navigate the street food, as well, explaining to Sokka that no, it probably wasn’t a good idea to order the fire noodles no matter how good they sounded. (That had been a harder argument to win than Zuko had planned, and they had compromised by agreeing that Sokka would get himself some fried Komodo sausage and could eat some of Zuko’s fire noodles.)

(Sokka took one mouthful of the noodles and, bravely, pretended he was fine, but he definitely didn’t ask for more after that.)

At some point during their wandering, Aang and Katara informed them that they were going to split off and watch more benders, something that didn’t particularly interest Sokka or Zuko.

“It’s just guys moving fire around, I’ve seen it plenty,” Sokka gestured wildly. “If I wanted to see firebending I would just poke Zuko.”

It had gotten a laugh out of Aang, and an eye-roll from Katara (who had opted to wear a mask that only covered the bottom half of her face), and they had split off.

Sokka and Zuko continued wandering, and Zuko made a promise to himself that he was going to stay in control this time, that he wasn’t going to touch Sokka.

That was, until, they happened past a tavern that Zuko hadn’t ever been allowed to even look at as a child, one that had couples of two men or two women together stumbling in and out of it, masks askew (though that wasn’t uncommon for a tavern of any sort during the Fire Days Festival). He realised with a start that it was a gay tavern, and nearly grabbed Sokka’s arm to pull him away, except that Sokka was staring directly at the tavern like he was in a trance.

“I thought you said that gay kids got castrated in the Fire Nation?” Sokka asked softly.

Zuko frowned and the corner of his mouth twitched downwards.

“No, not everyone, just the royal family,” he hummed. “It’s fine for everyone else, but the royal family has to carry the bloodline so it’s strictly prohibited.”

Zuko wished he could see Sokka’s expression under the mask.

“Did-” Zuko started slowly, “Did you want to go inside?”

Sokka looked at him, like he was shocked at the suggestion, but barely got to whisper, ‘nah, I’m good,’ before a man from inside the tavern clapped Zuko on the shoulder and told them they were a cute couple, stumbling off shortly after.

Zuko winced at the awful quiet that settled in between them, and clambered at anything to break it, but his brain came up with nothing. Sokka was the witty one between them, and was the quick-thinking jokester, but apparently Sokka had nothing to retort with either.

“You know…” he eventually said slowly, turning on his heel and walking slow enough for Zuko to get the idea and walk beside him back into the throng of the crowd. “You aren’t a prince, right now. And I’m not Water Tribe, right now, either. We’re just two guys in masks.”

Zuko’s eyes narrowed as he tried to convince himself that Sokka was _not_ insinuating that they could break their friends-only rule _again_.

He looked down and saw Sokka lift his mask to wink at him, grabbing Zuko’s hand and pulling them into an alley nearby.

He turned them to make sure that Zuko’s scarred side was facing away from the crowd and lifted the prince’s mask off, tossing both of them onto the ground beside them and taking Zuko’s face into his hands.

This time, unlike the last two, was gentle. It was gentle when Sokka brought his lips up to meet Zuko’s and it was gentle when Zuko’s arms wrapped around him. This time was the time that ruined it, in hindsight.

Because it was too gentle: it was soft and beautiful and Zuko rushed them to put their masks back on and paid for an upstairs room in the tavern they had passed, and as soon as they had a private space to themselves he let himself take his time with Sokka’s body and kiss wherever he wanted. And when Sokka returned the favour he held Zuko in such a tender way that brought all of their feelings back up again like oil rising in water.

When they were done, Sokka kissed his neck so sweetly that Zuko had to desperately hide his tears as he was overwhelmed by the sudden realisation that he wanted Sokka back, wanted this every night, wanted this without hiding it from anyone, and that he would die for Sokka if he did something as simple as ask.

Zuko had fiercely blinked the tears and they cleaned up, put the masks back on, and re-joined the festival like nothing happened.

Sokka, Aang and Katara left the next morning and Zuko spent the rest of the day alone in his room trying to put all of his disjointed feelings back together.

~*~

When they met next, in the South Pole, Zuko forced himself to lay down the no-sex rule, because he couldn’t do it again. He knew himself, and he knew that if he saw Sokka’s hair down one more time, or touched his bare skin and felt its warmth, he’d definitely go and ruin everything and say ‘I love you’ and then they’d be in a state of catastrophe all over again.


	12. PART X

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> ARE YOU READY
> 
> YOU BETTER GET READY
> 
> ITS HAPPENING

Zuko explained.

Probably not with anywhere near as many details as Sokka, he didn’t even mention that they were sexually involved at all, because he was staring at a fourteen-year-old and couldn’t bring himself to say _that_.

(He knew Aang was technically one-hundred-and-fourteen but it doesn’t count if a hundred of those years were spent frozen in time.)

He explained that they had ‘fooled around a bit’ and that it ‘wasn’t serious’ when they were travelling together, but that they broke up the day of Sozin’s Comet. Zuko mentioned that they had met up once or twice since then and tried and failed to stay platonic for most of those times, and that they were in the middle of having a series of Serious Conversations about what to do now that they were arranged to be wed.

Even though he was leaving out so much, Zuko felt an unexpected wave of relief at finally telling someone about him and Sokka. He hadn’t told anyone about it, ever, (other than blurting some obscure details in the middle of a crisis with his uncle) and it felt good to say these things out loud. It felt weird, but good, to tell someone that he and Sokka were ‘together’ whether there was an ‘on and off’ tacked onto the end or not.

Because, sure, they were never properly together. It was ‘casual’, it was ‘just sex’.

But Zuko, a little older now and bearing hindsight, could see it was never ‘no-strings-attached’. Even after the very first time they were together, they cuddled. They kissed every time they hooked up, they stayed in the same bed, and – sure – they never told anyone and they didn’t do the emotional goop that a relationship usually entailed, but Zuko didn’t know if they would have been all that oogie even if they had called it a real relationship.

They fooled themselves into thinking it was casual because calling it casual protected them. If they called it ‘casual’ then they weren’t committed, they could leave at any time, they didn’t have to tell anyone. It was the easy way out of dealing with the tough stuff. Which, Zuko mused, was pretty fair considering how much other tough stuff they had to deal with.

But he knew, he _knew_ , it wasn’t purely casual. Because Sokka used to trace patterns on his back late at night when the moon kept them both awake. Because their first time together, Zuko figured out that Sokka had a weak spot at the corner of his jawline and every chance he could after that he would kiss it. Because Sokka learnt when Zuko’s birthday was just to give him a crappy dumb present, and that dumb present was a special tea blend he had made with Aang’s help. Because Zuko learnt that Sokka was born on the winter solstice and sent him a present via hawk even though they had broken up.

“Wait,” Aang frowned. “The Earth King suggested you get married?”

Zuko nodded.

“They all just thought it would be a good political arrangement?”

Zuko nodded.

“But you guys were technically together long before they even thought to marry you off?”

Zuko nodded again.

Aang sat in quiet contemplation, for a moment, then grinned brightly, “I guess that’s destiny for you!”

Zuko couldn’t help but laugh, and the two of them spent the next hour or so catching up and joking with one another while they mediated and practiced. Zuko forced the conversation away from Sokka, not wanting to give Aang all the nitty-gritty and pretty shitty details about their current dilemma, but Aang was happy to do most of the talking, anyway.

~*~

Zuko and Sokka managed to get through the day without seeing each other, for the most part. It wasn’t until the afternoon slowly crept closer to evening that they were forced to be in the same room, and Sokka could barely breathe when he noticed Zuko was refusing to look at him.

Hakoda approached the group and announced that he was hoping to have a family dinner with his children, tonight, as they hadn’t been together as a family in such a long time, now, and had spoken with the kitchen about certain Water Tribe recipes.

Sokka nearly snorted when his dad used the word ‘spoken’, as if he thought they didn’t know him better than that. Sokka didn’t have a single doubt in his mind that Hakoda would have been in the kitchen with the royal cooks, pot in hand, cooking the sea-prunes himself under the guise of ‘teaching’.

He agreed eagerly, to dinner with his family. Mostly because Hakoda was right, they had barely spent anytime together as the three of them, but also a little bit because Sokka didn’t think he could bear looking at Zuko’s face right now.

He wanted to apologise, wanted to rush over and scoop Zuko into his grasp and tell him everything inside his brain. He wanted to say ‘I’m sorry I can’t make a decision’ and ‘I’m sorry I’m not quite on the same page as you’ and ‘we were meant to be just friends until only a few days ago I haven’t caught up yet’ and maybe even ‘I want to be with you’ but he couldn’t. His feet were stuck in place.

He let Katara drag him out of the room, and sat with his family for dinner.

Sokka sat on the floor where Hakoda had laid out their food, picking up a small bowl as he did so. Katara sat to his left and their dad sat across from the both of them, forming a small triangle.

It was comfortable, in this tiny room with just the three of them. It felt like being back at home, before everything. Before Hakoda left to fight in the war, before he and Katara found Aang, before they grew up and realised how complicated everything was.

It was nice, to sit with his family and eat familiar, comforting food.

It could be one of the last few times he gets to do this, at least for a year or so. He was about to sign his life away to the Fire Nation, after all.

The thought of living in the Fire Nation forever curdled his stomach more than the thought of being married to Zuko forever and he didn’t want to dwell on that. Maybe the five-flavour-soup was off. Although Katara was shoveling it into her face like her life depended on it so maybe not.

It was Hakoda who struck up conversation, telling them the latest update he had received from Bato, which included a funny anecdote or two about the goings-on back home. Katara listened with eager awe, and Sokka tried to listen as much as possible while his mind kept straying.

Eventually, the stories from the Southern Water Tribe ran out, and Katara launched into a tale from her and Aang’s adventures out on the sea, helping soldiers return to shore with word of the end of the war.

“-Oh! And then we met this wonderful man who had been at sea for years, and when we helped him reach the shore he told us he was going to find the woman he loved, he said she had sent him a message asking if he loved her and he wasn’t able to answer before he left for the war, it was so sweet, Dad!”

Sokka rolled his eyes when he saw Katara look at him out of the corner of her eye.

He had told her, over breakfast, about everything that happened between him and Zuko the night before, and he didn’t appreciate her picking up Aang’s bad habit of creating fake stories to apply her own morals to a situation.

But Sokka could play that game. He had known Katara her whole life, he wasn’t about to back down from this fight.

“Hey, Katara, do you remember that woman we met in the Earth Kingdom who received eleven proposals from men leaving for the war, and she said yes to all of them, and then none of the men came back to get married?”

Katara’s eyes narrowed.

“Remember the woman who told us she regretted she didn’t just tell her husband her true feelings before he was _assassinated_?”

“Remember the nosy bitch who kept butting into business that wasn’t hers?”

“Hey! Hey!” Hakoda put his bowl down on the ground, pushing his children away from each other. Sokka hadn’t even noticed they were getting all up in each other’s faces.

Their father looked between them both, eyes narrowed.

“Do I want to know what this is about?”

“No,” Sokka answered before Katara could. “This is my life, Katara, and my decision, and you don’t get to butt in and bring _Dad_ into it just because you want it to work out a certain way!”

Hakoda opened his mouth to interject and break them up again, but saw the look on Katara’s face and decided it was safer to wait this argument out. He picked his bowl up again and quietly munched away at his soup while they bickered.

“This isn’t about me and what I want, this is about what’s best for you!”

Sokka groaned, smacking his palm against his forehead.

“Not everyone is you and Aang, Katara!” he yelled. “Not everyone finds their soulmate at the age of fourteen, not everyone has a cute kiss at sunset and everything is fine! You don’t know what’s best for me, you know what’s best for _you_ , and what you and Aang have doesn’t apply to this situation!”

Katara spluttered.

“He has a point,” Hakoda pointed out, quickly averting his gaze and resuming his eating when Katara sent him a glare that could have burnt the sea.

“You don’t even know what we’re talking about, Dad,” she glowered.

“Yeah, but he does have a point. You’re both different people and have different lives. This sounds like a romance problem and Sokka is engaged, so it’s different for him than it is for you.”

Hakoda had never feared his daughter more than in that moment, the look she gave him beginning to melt his skin.

“I mean, uh,” he looked at Sokka, “Be nice to your sister. I have no stake in this.”

“You told me yourself that you-” Katara cast a glance towards their father and mentally rearranged her words, “You told me what you wanted out of this, and I don’t understand why you aren’t doing that.”

“Because it’s not that simple, Dad’s right, the engagement changes things, regardless of what Zuko thinks!”

“Ugh! Your skull is so thick sometimes I think the sea-otters use _you_ to open the urchins!” Katara rolled her eyes. “Zuko. Was. _Right_. You said he told you that the engagement doesn’t change anything, and he was _right_ , and it hurts me so much to say that he was right, Sokka.”

Hakoda smirked but otherwise kept as quiet as possible, knowing his son’s scorn could be equally as burning as his daughter’s.

“The thing is Katara, is that it’s not Zuko’s feelings about the engagement that’s stopping me. It’s literally everything else. And I can’t believe I have to say this again, but it’s _none of your business_.”

“You made it my business this morning when you came crawling to me asking for help about what to do! You can’t ask for my help and then get mad when it’s not what you want to hear!”

“That is a good point, son,” Hakoda murmured, looking away from Sokka immediately to avoid the heat of his glare.

“Ugh!” Sokka stood, careful not to knock over any of the food as he stormed off towards the door. “You know, Katara, this reminds me of a _story_. Do you remember the one where the guy who was finally sure he wanted to be with someone asked her about it and then she _died_ under his protection and every single day he has to live with the fact that everyone he opened his heart up to was endangered by his presence?”

He slammed the door behind him, determined to keep his anger going so that he didn’t feel any of the yucky emotions that were stirred up, the guilt and the grief and the pain, and kept his feet moving to avoid opening the door again.

He had spent his entire life refusing to process his grief about his mother, and when Yue left he pushed that deep down as well. There were bigger things to deal with, and he couldn’t take time away to think about it. And after that, his grief about Yue got all twisted up with everything else he had pushed deep down, all stuck together like a tangled net.

If he pulled at one part, it would all come pouring out. Not just the grief and loss, but the insecurities that had melted into it, the self-blame, the doubt, the fear, all of his mistakes and regrets jumping on for the ride.

He hadn’t realised that his feelings about Zuko had gotten twisted up in that net until they were fished out and everything else was now floating below the surface, too.

His feet kept moving, and moving, and he kept walking and walking, stomping about in a rage until he realised he was standing before a door – and it wasn’t the door to his room. The guards were standing nearby, watching him, but they had seen him here enough that they didn’t see him as a threat, they hadn’t even moved.

“Fuck it,” Sokka whispered under his breath, pushing Zuko’s bedroom door open and even though he wanted to slam it he made sure to close it gently.

Being angry didn’t mean he got a free ride to bring up Zuko’s trauma around intrusive noises. Not ever, but certainly not right now, there were much, much bigger things to talk about right now.

Zuko startled at Sokka’s arrival. He had been sitting on the bed until his door was opened and Sokka had emerged through, apparently reading. Now, he was sitting on the bed with his arms crossed, eyebrow drawn in.

“What are you-”

“Do you actually like me?” Sokka cut him off, hands still on the door.

“What?”

“Do you actually like me? Do you know me enough to actually like me or are you going to realise it was just an infatuation once you really get to know me and you realise I’m not actually that good?”

Zuko closed his eyes briefly, steadied himself, then got off the bed, tying his hair up as he did so.

“Why are you doing this?” he asked, gently bringing Sokka into the middle of the room, where the warrior slipped out of his grip and moved over to pull the curtains shut. “Sokka, what’s going on?”

“I’m not an easy person to be around, Zuko, and we don’t actually know each other that well,” Sokka threw the curtains closed but didn’t turn around. “I mean you don’t know about my-”

“Pathological overthinking and blatant disregard for personal space?”

“No,” Sokka shot Zuko a look over his shoulder. “No, I mean, what if you think you like me and then two weeks after the wedding you realise I-”

“Pick your teeth after you eat?” Zuko gestured with one hand, cutting Sokka off. “You don’t pick up after yourself and leave your clothes everywhere? You somehow think your emotional baggage is heavier than mine? We’ve been living together for months, Sokka, I know all of that already.”

“No, you don’t get it!” Sokka turned around, “I-”

“You point your finger into my chest every time you’re mad at me,” Zuko grabbed at Sokka’s wrist, where said accusatory finger had been pointing straight at him. “You don’t shave because you’re lazy. Apparently, you also lick sap on cave walls and get so paranoid that you think birds are potential enemies?”

Zuko let go of Sokka’s hand, throwing his arms up.

“You don’t remember what your mom looked like, you think liking spicy food makes you tough but you don’t actually like spicy food, your favorite colour is orange, you’ve killed men at war, I’ve got it, Sokka! I know it, I’ve heard it before,” Zuko ran a hand through his hair, pulling out strands, “What is it? What’s the big secret that’s going to turn me away?”

“Yue.”

Zuko furrowed his brow. “Who’s Yue?”

“ _Yue_ ,” Sokka looked at the floor, “Was the daughter of Chief Arnook, of the Northern Water Tribe. _Yue_ was my first girlfriend, I guess, and I was asked specifically to protect her, and _Yue_ -”

“Turned into the moon, you told me this-”

“ _Died_ , Zuko, in my fucking arms. It’s easier to say ‘she turned into the moon’ than to say ‘she gave up her physical body in an act of death so that her spirit could replace the moon spirit’. I was meant to protect her, and I watched her die in my arms because I was protecting her instead of the fucking _fish_.”

Sokka squeezed his eyes shut and pushed his palms against his forehead.

“I’m never going to be able to tell you that I love you,” he admitted. “Everyone around me, everyone I care about, they all feel temporary. It’s like I’m watching a clock tick down over everyone’s heads, all the time. Even you. You’re not permanent, Zuko, and I don’t know if I can open myself up to that.”

Sokka was shaking.

“And, you look _so_ _sad_ , all the time, and I don’t know how to answer you. Because if I say yes then I’ll never be able to love you the way you want and you’ll always resent me for it, and if I say no you’ll keep looking so sad and everything is somehow even worse.”

He had given up something that Zuko was sure he had never said out loud before. He was practically vibrating with aggressive and anxious energy, and it looked like tears were starting to cling to his lashes.

“Okay.”

“No, not okay, I keep getting everyone around me hurt, or putting them in danger.”

“Okay.”

“No, not okay!” Sokka threw his hands up. “What about that is okay?!”

“I’m okay!” Zuko grabbed Sokka at his biceps. “I’m not going to die in your arms, I can take care of myself, you don’t need to protect me!”

The hairs that had fallen out of Zuko’s top knot were suddenly all the prince could feel, irritating his face as he became more and more heightened and dysregulated just from being near Sokka’s uncontained energy. Zuko untied and retied his hair while speaking, maybe if only to give his hands something to do.

“Okay means okay,” Zuko sighed. “If you say yes, then fine, you’ll never be able to be vulnerable with me and you’ll probably live in another room while you’re here, but we can figure things out and go at a pace that works, right? If you say no, then it all goes back to how it’s been this whole time, where you keep getting jealous every time someone else is in the room with me, and upset whenever I ‘look at you’, and it just keeps going on like that.”

Sokka’s eyes were wide, expecting a fight but not expecting understanding. Not from Prince Hothead, who was in a screaming match only a year ago with one particular Earth Kingdom general that Sokka got to hear about in a letter only shortly afterwards. (Zuko was definitely in the right, in that situation, but Sokka’s biased and that’s beside the point).

But maybe he shouldn’t have expected a fight. He should expect fights to come, absolutely, because they were both loud and aggressive and stubborn and there was absolutely going to be fighting over petty little things in the future, but maybe Sokka should have known that Zuko wouldn’t fight over this.

Zuko didn’t fight over the big things, not until it had been too long at an impasse and his patience wore. Not unless the person who fought with was someone he didn’t like. Zuko fought with people who got under his skin, people who were rude or slimey or corrupt. But he had seemingly endless patience for those he cared about, at least when it came to the big things.

Sokka had witnessed Zuko and Aang get into what looked like the beginnings of an Agni Kai yesterday, broken up by Katara, because Zuko told a story ‘wrong’ and they got heated over it. But Zuko had also sat up all night with one of the Earth Kingdom ambassadors while they awaited a black-ribbon hawk that carried the decision on whether to release the prisoners of war. He was awake for three days straight and didn’t eat anything and never once so much as growled.

Sokka should have expected Zuko to be patient with him. Because Zuko, apparently, had taken every single piece of information he had been given about Sokka and had retained it, maybe even cherished it. Which was terrifying. And Zuko, apparently, was willing to commit himself to a relationship with someone who might not be able to love him the way he deserves to be loved.

And a terrible, awful, gut-wrenching thought struck Sokka like a punch to the gut.

Maybe Zuko was being patient because Zuko didn’t think Sokka was going to say yes. And maybe Zuko didn’t think he deserved Sokka to say yes. And maybe Zuko was okay with Sokka saying yes because he didn’t think he deserved to be shown true and vulnerable love.

Sokka pulled away from Zuko’s hold and huffed.

“I’m angry,” he grumbled. “I want to be angry. Stop making me not-angry.”

If Sokka had been looking he would have seen Zuko’s eyebrow quirk.

“I don’t want you to be angry.”

Sokka nearly sneered back, ‘well, I don’t care what you want,’ but he did. He did care what Zuko wanted, he cared so much about what Zuko wanted. Saying otherwise was petty and intentionally hurtful and that’s not what he was here for.

“Whatever,” he settled on instead.

Zuko’s fist were tense by his sides but he was keeping everything under control, still. Nothing was even smoking yet.

“What are you still doing in my room, if you just want to be angry?” Zuko asked, voice even.

Sokka frowned. “Because I want to be angry at you!”

“Why?”

Sokka stopped.

_Because you’re making me confront my feelings and I don’t like what I’m confronting._

_Because I want to be with you but if I admit that out loud then I can’t go back without hurting you._

_Because I’m scared that I’ll hurt you._

_Because you think you like me but I’m scared you’ll find out I’m unloveable._

“Because!”

“Because, why?” Zuko leant closer. Now Sokka really was mad. Zuko knew what he was doing and it was unfair.

“It doesn’t matter,” Sokka sighed, defeated. Zuko wiped at Sokka’s cheek, not flinching when Sokka shifted away from the touch, and stepped back.

“Fine, you don’t have to tell me,” the prince crossed his arms. “You don’t have to give me an answer, and you don’t have to be with me. We can wait until you’re ready to have a conversation about us and what you want to do, but-”

“Why did you come back?” Sokka asked quietly, staring at the bed. There was still an indent in the second pillow where he had been sleeping. “Last night, you came back to the bed. You held me.”

“You were awake?”

Sokka nodded. “Why didn’t you kick me out? This is your room. Or you could have stayed in any of the other rooms in the palace. Why didn’t you?”

Zuko shrugged.

_Because I want to be with you even if you don’t want to be with me._

_Because I have no self-control and you still bring me comfort._

_Because it felt like the only option_.

“Zuko, you deserve to have someone who will give you a straight answer and make you feel safe and protected, all the time,” Sokka pushed at his chest. “Why are you settling for me?”

“Because everyone else is stupid!” Zuko threw his hands up, the spark finally lighting on his patience. “Because everyone else expects me to be someone I’m not! You don’t think that I’ve already been set up with a hundred possible suitors? I have!”

Sokka stepped back, surprised. Zuko had been dating people?

“The second I stepped foot back in the palace, it has been a non-stop barrage of girl after girl, and even when Uncle finally convinced the advisors to have our ‘first gay prince’, it didn’t get any better! I would wake up and try to go to train or meditate and I’d be pulled into another useless meeting with some noble’s son who sat in silence the whole time or asked me how I got my _hair_ _shiny_!”

Zuko kicked a stool half-hearted.

“When our engagement was announced, it finally stopped. All the invitations for tea and all the sucking up, it finally stopped, and I was finally able to breathe. No one else fought the Firelord on the day of Sozin’s Comet. No one else knows that I lost my firebending and had to learn it back again. No one else knows I use swords just as much as fire, and no one else knows what its like to sleep on the ground.”

Zuko sniffed and rubbed his temples.

“I’m not _settling_ for you.”

Sokka barely heard it. The thought of Zuko with anyone else suddenly made everything abundantly clear.

He was never going to be able to say no, because Zuko was right; if he said no, he would just be on edge and jealous about anyone who so much as smiled at Zuko and that wasn’t fair. If he said no, they would both be miserable and that wasn’t fair either.

Sokka wanted Zuko to be loved and cared for and it wasn’t fair to say no if he didn’t want anyone else to show Zuko that kind of affection.

“Okay,” Sokka held up his hands. “One more question.”

“Ugh,” Zuko groaned, yelling out, “ _What_?”

It was official, Sokka had managed to wear out Zuko’s patience.

“Why did you break up with me after you told me you loved me?”

Zuko stopped, arms still in the air, and his face slowly settled into a despondent, neutral gaze. In gradual stages, he crossed his arms, raised his chin, and looked away.

“When I asked you, on the beach, if you wanted to be together more regularly, I was trying to ask you to be my boyfriend, or whatever,” he started, honest and blatant. “And you looked terrified. So, I said we could be ‘casual’, ‘no strings attached’ because that worked better. I didn’t need to worry about having a boyfriend four days before my father set the world on fire, so I was happy to take whatever you could give.”

Sokka was having trouble processing this. On one hand, Zuko had liked him – maybe he had even been in love with him – for all this time and that meant that someone liked Sokka, and Sokka was worthy of love and appreciation. On the other hand, he had been making Zuko settle for less for longer than he thought and he didn’t like that.

“I slipped, I told you I loved you, and you looked like you were going to throw up,” Zuko shook his head. “I didn’t mean to say it, and I freaked out. I don’t know why I did what I did, I can’t tell you why. I avoided having to figure things out, I just wanted to _not_ deal with it.”

Sokka’s heart broke, he opened his mouth to speak, to ask one last question, and he had to stop and try again before the words finally came out.

“Did you mean it?” Sokka whispered slowly, letting the darkness of the room swallow his anxious feelings.

He watched Zuko tense, then relax a fraction.

“No,” he whispered, and _jeez you could warn a guy before verbally punching him in the gut_. But then Zuko continued.

“I really liked you, and I was stressed and terrified and I felt like I had to prove myself to everyone, I had abandoned the people who loved me… I wasn’t doing well,” his words were cautious, but raw. “But I felt good with you. I felt comfortable, and I think I was so confused I mistook that comfort for love. I thought I loved you, but looking back I think you were just someone who was good for me and I wasn’t used to it so I fell in too deep.”

Sokka was quiet for a moment, tried not to throw up, one more question begging to be asked.

“Do you love me now?”

Zuko didn’t tense up like before. He sagged, no energy left to hold his tongue, slipping into acceptance that everything he had just built with Sokka could crumble.

“Yes.”

This was officially too much. They had brought out too much into this room. Two guys who had never opened up all the way about their feelings decided to spill all of them into the room at once, covering the floor like emptying a sack of worms.

There was a look on Zuko’s face that Sokka couldn’t quite place, but he didn’t like it. It was the ‘I just spoke to my father in his cell and now I’m going to feel like worthless garbage for the next two weeks’ face. It was the ‘I just had a screaming match with an Earth Kingdom general and I’m going to lock myself in my room until my shame about becoming my father fades away’ face. It was the ‘someone brought up my scar and now I’m going to be irritable for a month whenever someone mentions appearance or image or presentability’ face.

Sokka was the cause of that face, and he couldn’t handle that.

“I’m sorry,” Sokka whispered, stepping forward and letting his head rest against Zuko’s chest.

He didn’t know quite which thing he was sorry about. There were many things he wanted to apologise for.

He took Zuko’s hands in his own and gripped them together between their bodies. Sokka opened his eyes and lifted his head, (and realised he was at eye level with Zuko now and the royal tailor was going to be _so mad_ at him for growing again so shortly before the wedding).

“Can we truce, for a few minutes?” Sokka let his head drop onto Zuko’s shoulder again. “I can’t do any more talking about feelings but its super cold and I don’t want to leave you here. Can we sit in limbo for a second?”

Zuko didn’t answer, but that meant he also didn’t say no. He stood, relaxed, slipping his hands out of Sokka’s grip to embrace the warrior gently. Sokka got the feeling that Zuko didn’t want a truce, that Zuko couldn’t sit in the mess. Zuko wanted answers, he needed to clean things up.

But he let Sokka sit, and Sokka appreciated that.

“Wanna go hit each other with sticks?” Sokka smirked, still not looking up.

Zuko didn’t answer and Sokka added ‘my joke didn’t land’ to his list of things to be upset about.

“Are you just going to stay there?” Zuko asked after a while, and Sokka thought he might have heard the smile in his voice.

“I might actually cry if I look at you so I’m just gonna hang out here, yeah,” Sokka mumbled into Zuko’s shoulder, and he could feel the prince laughing at him.

“Well, someone came in, before, and rudely made me get up out of bed, so would you be okay if we go back to the bed?”

Sokka pulled away and he watched the smile, a façade, slip slowly from Zuko’s lips as he stopped joking.

“I’m tired, Sokka.”

They both knew that the words had more than one meaning.

Somewhere between Zuko climbing onto the bed and Sokka losing his self-control and cuddling into him, he whispered ‘please’ and he didn’t even know what it meant until their limbs were wrapped up and Zuko’s mouth was on his cheek and it was happening again.

This time, it felt like it had in the tavern at the Fire Days Festival. It felt like Zuko was handling him with gloves, like a fragile and precious object, and he felt like he couldn’t let go or Zuko might evaporate into thin air. This time was so gentle it hurt, and Sokka knows he whispered apologies onto the skin of Zuko’s neck, he knows he told him how beautiful he was and he’s pretty sure he cried.

He knows he breathed, ‘I don’t want to lose you,’ and he knows that Zuko wouldn’t look at him after he said it, and he knows they had hands all over each other but didn’t take any clothes off until Sokka let his forehead drop and he said, or maybe yelled, or maybe croaked,

“Yes.”

It felt like he had screamed it, thought his voice was barely a whisper, as it resonated around the rooms silence.

“The answer is yes.”

Zuko’s eyes were wide, but he couldn’t bring himself to remove his face from where it was resting in the middle of Sokka’s chest. It felt like if he looked up, it would be a dream or a hallucination, a mirage showing him water in the desert.

“You should be the one saying no,” Sokka continued. “But I don’t want to talk to anyone else about anything I said tonight. I don’t want anyone else to know that about me. I don’t want anyone else to know you, I don’t want anyone else to touch you. ”

Zuko slowly looked up, still scared Sokka would blow away like a leaf in the wind, but he didn’t. When he looked up Sokka was there, a person, solid and warm-blooded and breathing, and he was looking back down at him.

“Are you sure?”

Sokka grinned, laughing a little under his breath. “Are you trying to convince me to take it back?”

Zuko grabbed him and rolled them over, pushing Sokka into the mattress, leaning up with both hands on the warrior’s chest.

“Listen,” Sokka put his hands on either side of Zuko’s face. “I’m unsure about everything, all the time, non-stop. That’s why I was hesitant. It wasn’t about you or how I feel about you.”

He rubbed at Zuko’s left cheek and let his hands slip down along the prince’s sides.

“But we’ve talked enough about feelings for, like, the next three years. Wanna have cathartic sex?” Sokka joked, hands settling on Zuko’s hips.

Zuko laughed, a grin splitting his face that almost felt new to Sokka, it was so rare. This young man very rarely expressed his positive emotions in such a way, and since the end of the war he smiled a lot more but never like this. Never like he was beaming. Never like he embodied the very essence of the sun.

“I think you’re avoiding,” Zuko rolled his eyes. “And I really hate that you’re right, but I kinda do.”

“See? And now it’s so much better, because we won’t be filled with guilt and regret afterwards!” Sokka grinned, bringing Zuko’s face down to kiss him.

“No promises,” Zuko murmured against his cheek, and Sokka theatre-gasped.

“Was that a _joke_?” he laughed while Zuko slowly untied Sokka’s clothes. “Did Prince Zuko force me to have an hour-long conversation about my deepest fears and regrets and then make a _joke_?”

“Forced-? _You_ came to _me_!”

“Semantics,” Sokka waved his hand, occupying Zuko’s mouth with his own in the hopes to shut them both up.

Then, it really was like in the tavern. Soft and sweet, without all the tears.

Zuko’s eyes were still red from before, but then when he came it was like the dam opened up, a sob heaving out of his chest once the glow wore off, and Sokka was there. Sokka was there with a blanket and open arms and a damp towel to clean everything up, and he was there to keep kissing Zuko and shutting him up when he tried to apologise.

It was odd in a way, to hold each other, post-orgasm. Because Sokka was right, this time was different, now that they were together. They were together. In a relationship. A real one, this time, with feelings and responsibility. It was unchartered territory.

Sokka looked down as Zuko slowly settled. The prince was resting his head on Sokka’s chest, timing his breathing to the rise and fall of Sokka’s ribs, eyelids drooping as he slowly calmed down and drifted closer to comfortable sleep.

Sokka was okay with charting this.


	13. PART XI

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> in which zuko discovers he can say "i love you" without ruining anything and sokka finds out how zuko got his scar

Katara woke a couple hours after sunrise, and Aang was already gone when she did.

After spending a few moments contemplating going back to sleep, the waterbender forced herself out of bed (the sweet, comfortable bed) and got dressed for the day.

She contemplated finding Aang for breakfast, or her dad, but she felt uncomfortable with how Sokka left things last night, and felt bad about forcing him to talk about it in front of their father.

Katara resolved to find her brother and clear things up, mentally planning how best to apologise for her words and her actions, without fully letting him off the hook for the blow up. He _had_ asked for her advice, after all.

She cautiously opened the door from her room, and the wave of déjà vu had her briefly contemplating asking the guard if he could escort her to Prince Zuko’s chambers. This thought was quickly dismissed by her memory of the fact that Sokka and Zuko clearly weren’t in the best of places right now, so she doubted he’d be in Zuko’s room.

However, when she opened the doors to Sokka’s room, she once again found empty sheets, and looked up at the guards in the hallway incredulously.

“No way.”

The guards nodded, and the one closest to her held out an arm and offered to escort Katara to the prince’s room.

~*~

Zuko slowly traced the tattoos on Sokka’s left arm, observing the details closely. He hadn’t gotten much of a chance to look at them yet. With it being winter, Sokka’s arms were almost always covered, and when they were undressed together it was usually dark and Zuko was otherwise preoccupied. He had seen them, sure, plenty of times and he had seen it throughout different stages as his arms was added to sporadically, but he hadn’t actually focused on his tattoos before.

Sokka had mentioned in a letter, once he had returned to the South Pole, that he had finally gotten his tattoos, and Zuko had been curious. Their cultures had such different views on the treatment and decoration of the body. In the Fire Nation, the belief was that Agni had blessed her people with life and power and that their bodies were a vessel for this power, not to be vandalized by piercings or tattoos like other ‘uncivilized’ cultures did.

But the Water Tribes, as Sokka explained to Zuko, used tattooing for many reasons. The women often were tattooed for beautification, and to show their strength. If they could withstand someone needling their face for hours on end, they could maybe withstand childbirth (although Gran-Gran was quick to assure a naïve Sokka that she would prefer to have her whole face inked black than experience childbirth again).

For the men, it was a way to honour their lives and their achievements. It was a show of strength, power, and honour. Once a boy completes his coming of age ritual, he has a thick band tattooed around his bicep, accompanied by the symbol he was honoured with on the day, and this is where the rest of the tattoos will flow from as they are added.

Zuko poked one of the shapes, almost expecting Sokka to flinch, but it was a part of his skin now. Scarred skin, blackened with ink. Scars for decoration.

“What’s this part mean?” Zuko asked softly.

Sokka looked over at him, blinking his eyes fully open to ward off the soothing lull of sleep.

“This part is from fighting in the War,” he explained, shifting so they could both see the tattoo better, sitting up slightly. “There are different parts to it, uh…”

Sokka racked his brain trying to remember the exact wording, and the best translation that Zuko would understand. It was too early in the morning for this.

“This line means I’ve suffered a great loss, and these ones mark the statuses I achieved in the war, like uh… bravery,” he pointed to the symbols as he listed them, “Leadership. I think the best translation for this one is that it means I was on the front line, or nearest to the danger. Uh… that one is something like honour over victory. It means I fought for what was right, I think the best description is that my pride wasn’t involved in the fight. I didn’t participate to gain from the victory, it was for the greater good. Does that make sense?”

Zuko barely nodded before-

“Oh!” Sokka bent the skin on his bicep to try and show Zuko the underside best as possible, “That one means I lost a battle, a battle that I led. I think I’m the only one in the tribe who has it that only has one.”

Zuko smiled a little, waiting for a joke about Sokka’s military prowess that never came. If he was already expecting it then maybe the reaction wouldn’t be satisfactory for Sokka anyway.

“And the day after the wedding, before we leave, I’ll have to sit for the next band,” Sokka explained, tracing the bare skin where his marriage tattoo was going to be, shuffling to lay back down on the pillows. “And you’ll get to watch me vomit and pass out in person. The village shaman does the tattoos, and he’ll be here for the wedding so it’s the best time to do it.”

“Is it really that bad?” Zuko asked, a little amused and a little horrified.

“Well, it’s not pleasant,” Sokka shrugged. “Being cut or burned in a fight is different, because it happens in a split second and you have adrenaline to keep you going. The tattoos are different, because they hurt less than that, but they’re stretched out over hours and hours of continuous, minor pain. Your adrenaline wears off, because it takes so long.”

Zuko hummed.

“What does the marriage one look like?” he asked, head sinking into the pillow.

“Uh… did you ever see my dad’s?” Sokka asked, gently brushing the hair out of Zuko’s face. “It will look kind of similar, but each one is slightly different to represent the two people getting married…”

Zuko zoned out, clutching Sokka’s tattooed arm like a pillow. He didn’t want to get up. He knew he had to. He had a meeting soon with his Uncle and some ambassadors and some council leaders from rural areas of the Earth Kingdom. But he wanted to hold onto this moment as long as possible, still scared that everything would be different when he got back. Like if he got out of bed they would go back to being distant and regretful.

As if he could read his mind, Sokka poked the tip of Zuko’s nose.

“Don’t you have a meeting?”

“Ugh,” Zuko pressed his face into the pillow. “No?”

Zuko wanted to remind Sokka that hugging him wasn’t making it any easier to get out of bed, but Sokka’s arms were already wrapped around him and he didn’t want to complain about it.

“I’m certain that Katara will be looking for me, by the way,” Sokka nosed Zuko’s neck. “She and I had an argument last night. I don’t think she’ll be able to sit with it for very long, so if you go to your meeting you can join us for breakfast afterwards?”

Zuko snorted as he briefly contemplated how different his relationship with his own sister was to Sokka and Katara’s, also briefly unable to fully accept that Sokka could possibly know Katara that well, but nodded.

With a sigh and a groan, Zuko pulled himself away from Sokka’s warmth. He stretched his arms above his head as he moved around the room, and Sokka watched him until Zuko moved out of his range of view. Sokka liked him, and liked looking at him, but the pillows were very comfortable and he wasn’t going to crane his neck, not even for Zuko. Though he did want to.

“Should I save you some tangerines?” Sokka smirked, completely unable to help himself.

“Don’t make me break up with you again, Sokka.”

~*~

The Fire Nation Palace was beautiful and luxurious, but had definitely been designed with safety in mind. The hallways were a labyrinth, and while the guest rooms were easy enough to find, the royal family’s rooms were tucked deep into the twists and turns, designed specifically that only people who had been raised in the palace would know it off-by-heart.

When Katara and the guard escorting her both reached Zuko’s room, the guards that were there moved to stand directly in front of the doors.

“Sorry, ma’am,” one of the guards, a young man from the sounds of it, held up a hand to Katara. “Can’t let you through today.”

“You let me in yesterday!” Katara frowned, looking between them both. They were definitely the same people.

The other guard, an older woman with a scar on her left cheek, tried to hide a smirk but failed miserably.

“Trust me, sweetheart, you don’t want to go in there, and they don’t want you there either.”

Katara groaned. “ _They?_ Zuko isn’t up yet?”

The guard shook her head.

“But it’s-”

“I know what that time is,” the woman smiled. “He’s not up yet.”

As if on cue, the door behind the guards opened, startling the younger man. Everyone standing around the door froze, including the young prince who had just opened it, as Zuko’s face came into view and he saw the amount of people standing out the front of his door.

The guard who had escorted Katara made a face, careful not to let any amusement show, still worried the prince would singe him for it like Ozai would have, and left to resume his post outside of Katara and Aang’s room after a quick bow.

Zuko locked eyes with Katara, who raised an eyebrow. He didn’t look as grumpy as he had for the past few days, and the cogs in Katara’s brain were turning.

“Katara,” he nodded politely, pushing past her and scurrying down the hall.

The guards let her in.

Sokka was still in the bed, turned over, and Katara couldn’t tell from here if he was asleep or not.

“Ahem,” she cleared her throat, and Sokka startled awake.

His head whipped towards the door, and when he saw his sister he swore, huddling under the blankets.

“Ugh, Katara! Can you please stop coming into Zuko’s room to bug me?” Sokka pulled the sheets over his face. “Can’t you wait until _I_ get up, and I’m _dressed_? Just once?”

Katara smirked. If he were actually guilty and upset about the reason for being in Zuko’s bed, Sokka wouldn’t be engaging with her. If he were in a bad mood he’d death glare her out of the room or ignore her completely. Something happened last night, and she didn’t know what but she knew it wasn’t bad.

“So…” Katara crossed her arms, tilting her head. “We’re still fucking Zuko?”

“ _We_?” Sokka pulled the blanket off his face, staring directly at his sister. “Didn’t we decide last night this isn’t your business?”

Katara rolled her eyes, shuffling her toes.

“I came here to apologise for that,” she admitted. “But, I think there’s some more important things to talk about?”

Sokka rolled his eyes.

“Stand in the corner or go outside or something, I’m going to get dressed.”

Katara rolled her eyes, but turned around, arms still crossed. She heard Sokka shuffling around and the silence wore on her nerves too much. The view from Zuko’s room was stunning, looking directly out over the gardens. She could see the stretch of the city from here, and in the distance the rock walls of the volcanos ridges.

“So, Zuko slept in?” she asked, still facing the window.

“Apparently,” was the curt response.

“And you’re back in his room?”

“I wish you’d stop involving yourself in this,” Sokka sighed, and Katara swore she heard the smack of his boots against the floor, just before he said, “Alright. Let’s go. You shouldn’t be spending this much time in Zuko’s room, there might be a scandal.”

He had a little smirk on his face when Katara turned around, and Sokka led his sister down the halls to the kitchens for some breakfast.

Katara leant against Sokka’s arm, poking his side where he was ticklish before she opened her mouth next.

“Sorry, for last night,” Katara said softly. “I shouldn’t have brought it up.”

“It’s okay,” Sokka hummed. “I mean, it wasn’t cool, but it’s all okay now so it’s fine.”

Katara lifted her head.

“It’s okay now?”

Sokka had a little smile twitching on the corner of his lips that he was clearly trying to fight but couldn’t. Katara poked his sides a bit more, watching as a grin split over his face while Sokka tried to fight her off.

“Yeah,” he eventually gave in. “How about… if you get us breakfast, I’ll tell you everything?”

“Deal.”

~*~

Hakoda swept past the bay window that his children had claimed for a breakfast nook for that morning, stopping in front of them and swiping some fruit from Sokka’s hands, ignoring the shout that followed.

“So,” he waved between the two of them. “Everything’s okay?”

They both nodded, Katara’s mouth full and Sokka reaching to try and get his fruit back from Hakoda’s hands.

“Okay, good,” Hakoda held the apple slice away from Sokka’s reach. “Katara, some of the firebending teachers from an academy nearby spoke with Iroh last week, he says that they’ve agreed to talk to different benders to help adapt their curriculum. Did you want to meet with them?”

Katara lit up and she asked for their father to pass the message back that she was eager.

Sokka pouted when Hakoda bit into the apple slice as he left them.

~*~

Zuko rubbed his face as he left the meeting. Thankfully, for now he wasn’t expected to participate or make decisions for most of these meetings, just shadow Iroh and take note of the different bureaucratic processes that kept the country working.

But it didn’t mean that the meetings weren’t draining.

He turned the corner to head towards the kitchens, and stopped when he noticed Katara’s feet hanging over the edge of one of the bay windows.

“Good morning,” Sokka chimed as Zuko approached him and Katara, “Care to join us?”

Zuko observed their breakfast with a fond look. They had laid down a couple platters of fruits and pastries in one of the deeper bay windows, and had some cups of juice and water between them. Sokka shuffled over to create a space, and Zuko sat next to him, reaching to pour himself a glass of watermelon juice.

“So, how was your night last night, Zuko?” Katara asked, sweet as lychee, and Zuko nearly spat his watermelon juice out over their food.

“Katara!” Sokka whined, tossing a scone at his sister, who prepared to toss one back before Zuko intervened and pulled the plate of pastries away from the two of them.

The prince cleared his throat, wiped the juice from his face and took a scone from the plate.

“My night was fine, Katara, thank you.”

“Did you sleep well?”

Zuko’s mouth settled into a scowl, and Sokka looked like he wanted to curl up and die somewhere.

“I did. And you?”

Katara’s mouth twitched. Zuko wasn’t backing down.

Sokka, caught in the middle, was lamenting that he was just a sarcastic guy who enjoyed a good laugh sometimes, and now he had gotten himself stuck between two of the most stubborn people he knew who were in a verbal game of chicken about his sex life.

“No!” Sokka interjected as he watched his sister’s mouth open, “We’re not doing this, you promised you would play nice, Katara!”

Zuko waited patiently, eyebrow raised, until Sokka mumbled that he had told Katara ‘everything’.

“What does ‘everything’ mean?” Zuko’s brow furrowed.

Katara waved her hand, open palm, in a gentle circle, gesturing towards Zuko and Sokka, “ _Everything_.”

Zuko groaned and put his head in his hands, only a little bit comforted when Sokka gently rubbed his back. He was such an embarrassment when it came to relationships and now Katara knew that as well.

“I’m sorry if you wanted to keep it quiet for a bit longer,” the warrior said softly, like he was trying to talk to only Zuko, “But Katara and I were talking yesterday so I caught her up to speed with everything that happened.”

“No, that’s okay…” Zuko mumbled into his hands. “I told Aang yesterday.”

“ _What?!”_

“So much for keeping everything quiet,” Katara cackled to herself, grabbing one of the pastries and tugging it apart with her teeth.

“Well,” Sokka hummed. He guessed that since it was all out on the table now, he might as well take advantage of the fact that everyone in the room at the present moment knew that he and Zuko were together for real.

Sokka grabbed Zuko’s hand and interlaced their fingers as the prince sat up. Katara made a fake gagging noise and Sokka warned her to quit the hypocrisy before she regretted it, just as Aang entered the room.

“Hey, guys! I was just- uh…” he trailed off, gaze fixated on Sokka and Zuko’s interlaced hands.

Aang, considering he was apparently raised as tranquil monk, was never very good at being subtle.

“This is weird, I gotta admit,” he mumbled, scratching the back of his head. “First Zuko was trying to kill us, then he was our best friend, and now you guys are dating- hey, moonpies!”

~*~

Zuko’s suspicions had been confirmed, now that he and Sokka were actually together and not hiding it. (Well, they were still hiding it from most people, but while they were just hanging out with friends they were open about it).

Because unlike certain waterbender/Avatar couples that shall remain nameless, when he and Sokka stood next to each other they didn’t hold hands or cuddle or anything, not really. It was more likely that they would stand together with arms crossed, making witty quips to each other and sarcastic calls out to the others. And when Sokka took a step forward, Zuko may or may not have accidentally tripped him up and immediately grabbed him by the back of his shirt just for a good laugh.

So, suspicions confirmed: if they had dated properly before, it wouldn’t have been all that lovey-dovey.

It was certainly something to think about.

~*~

Sokka’s birthday came and went with a brief celebration but he barely even noticed it amongst everything else that was happening. Aang was the most enthusiastic, excitedly chattering to them all about how the eighteenth birthday was important to the Air Nomads, as it signified the coming-of-age as an adult.

That had lead to a discussion about how all of their cultures saw ‘adulthood’ differently, and that Sokka had been an adult in the eyes of his tribe for quite some time now, and with Katara now being sixteen she was also an adult, in Water Tribe culture. Zuko stayed quiet, and when prompted only gave up, ‘it’s debatable, different ages grant different rights’ because Zuko wasn’t Zuko unless he was dramatic and vague.

(Sokka destroyed the mystery by blurting out that while different ages grant different rights, a citizen is considered an adult at the age of twenty, which was followed by plentiful teasing consisting mostly of ‘Sokka’s marrying a child’ and Zuko pouting that he was older than Sokka.)

But, he had kissed Sokka’s cheek and whispered, “happy birthday,” in the dark of the night, handing Sokka a small object.

Sokka had not been able to see it, in the darkness, but he knew what it was without looking.

He couldn’t swap out his whale-bone collar for the necklace, but Zuko knew that, and gently helped Sokka clasp the ribbon around his wrist like it had been designed for.

It the early morning light, when Zuko left, Sokka admired the pendant. It was made of a dark stone material that looked all too familiar, and when he noticed that the carving seemed to depict the crescent moon and a small flame dancing around each other like Tui and La, he let the pillows soak up his tears.

~*~

As the date of the wedding began to quickly approach, and the responses to invitations were flying in, Sokka found himself with less opportunities to speak to Zuko alone. It wasn’t necessarily a bad thing, but it was something he noticed, for sure. He guessed that that was maybe why Zuko had approached him and asked if they wanted to spar together in the training rooms.

Sokka had opted to wear his thicker Water Tribe pants specifically with the intention of foregoing a shirt, and maybe it was a dirty tactic to throw Zuko off his game and keep him distracted, but it worked and he was going to keep doing it.

Zuko still won, four times in a row, because Zuko is, was, and always will be a dirty cheater (according to Sokka), but Sokka didn’t mind.

Because Zuko pinned him and Sokka yielded, and when Sokka put on a dumb voice and made an Earth Rumble style announcement that Zuko had won by playing dirty, the prince had grinned and poked Sokka’s cheek and said ‘I love you’ in the softest voice.

It was, in the warrior’s book, another cheap and dirty fighting tactic because Sokka immediately melted and _had_ to kiss him so he didn’t have to keep looking at Zuko’s blinding grin.

~*~

The next day, Zuko was spending the day with Hakoda for a standard Water Tribe ‘don’t hurt my child or I’ll abandon you in a blizzard’ pre-wedding shake down. Hakoda had insisted they were also going to go through a Water Tribe coming-of-age ritual so that in Water Tribe eyes, Sokka was marrying a man not a boy, but Sokka knew that it was a veiled excuse to go and scare Zuko into being a good husband.

Katara and Aang had decided to go with Zuko and Hakoda to help, and Sokka was pretty sure Aang wanted to go along so he knew what he was in for when it was his and Katara’s turn.

So, that left Sokka to either spend the day with himself and his thoughts, or to seek out Iroh.

~*~

“Thank you for letting me join you,” Sokka smiled, holding a hot cup of tea in his hands. All of this time with the royal family had really developed his taste for tea, to the point where he could now taste the difference between well-made and poorly-made tea, something he wasn’t sure he’d ever know.

They did brew tea in the Water Tribe, sometimes, but it was mostly medicinal, as there weren’t many plants in the icy tundra that could be used in flavourful tea. Katara did have a nice milk-tea recipe, though, that Sokka thought he might have to introduce Iroh to at some point.

“Pah!” Iroh waved a hand, shuffling to sit down. “Company is always appreciated, and you are always good company.”

Sokka felt warmth bloom through him at the praise and he couldn’t stop himself from grinning like an idiot.

They chatted for a while, Iroh turning to sign some documents every so often, when there was a lull. He wasn’t sure what sparked the thought in his head, but Sokka suddenly had a question that he was sure Iroh would be the best one to ask, and before he could stop himself it was tumbling out of his mouth.

“I’m curious,” Sokka sipped at his tea, swallowing in the pause between his words. “How old was Zuko when he got that scar?”

Iroh’s hands stilled for a moment, and a heavy tension Sokka hadn’t expected settled over the room.

Iroh resumed making his tea, shuffling wordlessly, a slight furrow between his brows as he carefully lined up all the possible outcomes of this conversation.

“Did Zuko not tell you how he received it?” he finally spoke, still shuffling about and getting a platter of honey-cookies together.

Sokka felt Iroh’s words hang on his lungs. Iroh was a bright person with a large personality, he was cheerful and reassuring. Sokka couldn’t remember a time he had every really seen Iroh very serious, except for the _day of Sozin’s Comet_ when he was discussing the _death of his own brother_. Sokka felt like he had stepped into a metaphorical paddock only to discover it was a minefield.

“No,” he answered, honestly. “Zuko seems so have some self-esteem stuff going on, and his scar is a bit of a sore spot. Always has been. He covered it all the time, so I didn’t want to ask.”

Sokka shrugged his shoulders a little. “It wasn’t really important, at the time. It still isn’t, really, I just want to know more about my future husband.”

The corners of Iroh’s mouth quirked into a fond smile, then slowly resumed his solemn look as he sat down with Sokka at the table.

“Zuko does have self-esteem... _stuff_ ,” he smirked at Sokka, pushing the cookies towards the young man. “For many reasons, I’m sure. But his scar holds a lot of emotional energy, negative and powerful. It wasn’t a mere accident, Sokka.”

Iroh’s eyes met Sokka’s with those last words and the warrior felt his stomach constrict in a very uncomfortable way. There was an awful seriousness to Iroh’s gaze, weighted with knowledge that hurt him to know.

When Iroh’s mouth opened next, Sokka went from uncomfortable to sick.

He wanted to be angry, and a part of him was. A part of him was so furious his knuckles were going white with tension and he was mentally planning how to locate Ozai’s cell and bypass the guards and exactly what weapon would be best to smuggle in there and what words would be the last ones Ozai would ever hear.

But there was this bigger, louder part that just felt sickened and sad. Desperately and overwhelmingly sad.

Sad for Zuko, who was thirteen and shaking and just wanted to protect his nation and nearly lost his eyesight for that compassion. Sad for Zuko, who was now nineteen and still having to live with the repercussions of his father’s actions, in many ways. Sad for himself, that his fiancé would hear Sokka’s words but never understand that he is attractive, scar or not, and that he does have worth and value regardless of how he looks or what people think of him.

But Sokka was sad for himself a little too. Sad that he had to hear it. Sad that it ever happened.

“Zuko’s relationship with his scar, with his face at all,” Iroh contemplated, “is a complicated one. He claims it has made him who he is, and that it is a reminder of his values and what he is prepared to sacrifice to do the right thing. However, I think he says these things not because they are the full truth, but so that he does spend every day hating his face.”

Sokka looked at his tea, thinking.

“I like it.”

Iroh frowned a little, but remained quiet in wait for a continuation.

“His scar. I’ve only ever known him with it, and I didn’t think anything of it when we first met. I was more focused on the awful ponytail.”

“ _That_ was a royal hairstyle, hair which is sacred to our culture and is styled in particular ways to express who you are as a person,” Iroh quirked an eyebrow, voice firm, then smirking and giving a short chuckle when Sokka retracted in shock. “But it was a pretty awful ponytail.”

Sokka smiled slowly, holding his tea for the comfort of warmth between his hands.

“Ponytail aside,” the young warrior continued, “Zuko’s scar was just a part of Zuko. Y’know – he’s got gold eyes and black hair and he doesn’t smile a lot and he’s got a scar and he’s born in the spring and he’s Fire Nation.”

Sokka sipped his tea.

“But then I met Ozai.”

Iroh’s eyes fell to his tea, already understanding, even though Sokka kept going.

“I have never seen a father and son look so alike. We thought a picture of Ozai as a baby _was_ Zuko. The only thing that set them apart was the scar.”

Iroh hummed. There were crickets outside, wind rustling the gardens. The whirr of summer in the Fire Nation. Maids and guards were wandering outside the doors, feet padding along the long hallway. There was silence in the room between them.

“When Zuko was born, his eyes were gold from the moment he opened them,” Iroh finally spoke. “He was so small, Sokka. Ursa tried so hard to care for him in the womb but he was born early, and so, _so_ tiny.”

Sokka felt the room change. Iroh wasn’t dancing around a tense story of tragedy anymore, he was talking about Zuko with all the fondness of a loving father.

“Ozai, when Zuko was born... he loved him. It’s very hard not to love them, when they’re first born. You hold this fragile thing that you made and you would do anything to protect them. Ozai had that look in his eye, he felt that way about Zuko, at least for a brief moment.”

Iroh shook his head. “It was our father. He said that the ‘runt’ was too small, would probably be an invalid, didn’t have the strength to rule and definitely couldn’t be a firebender. Our father had a grip on Ozai, the same that Ozai, in turn, had on Azula. It made him mad, crazed with a lust for approval.”

Iroh wasn’t in the room anymore, he was somewhere distant.

“When Azulon made his judgment, that look in Ozai’s face was gone. He didn’t care about Zuko anymore, saw only his imperfections. He let Ursa name the baby, because he didn’t care. Azulon hadn’t seen Zuko’s eyes.”

Sokka frowned.

Everyone in the family had gold-ish eyes, hazels and browns and caramels, but Zuko’s were an unnatural gold. Sokka had never met Ursa, and assumed maybe she had given him that colour.

“It is mostly superstitious nonsense, after all his mother was not a firebender but her eyes are gold,” Iroh waved a hand to pull himself back on track. “Uh, but gold eyes were considered a sign of a firebender, and Zuko’s were so bright. Azulon dismissed him, but I knew he would be powerful. Ozai didn’t listen to me, didn’t care. Father had made his ruling, the conversation was over.”

Iroh sighed. “I don’t have any sage advice about this. I don’t know why my brother acted in this way. It is sad, but a fact. I only hope that Zuko has truly learnt from all of this hardship and will bring us to peace one day.”

Sokka nodded. Zuko had learnt. At least, Sokka thought so. Sure, he still snapped sometimes, and had to be reminded sometimes to chill out and think things through instead of just reacting – but he had grown a lot from when Sokka first saw him.

But, even when Zuko was a crazed Fire Nation soldier coming to hurt Sokka’s people, in hindsight, Zuko didn’t want to hurt anyone. He only defended against attacks, and left the village mostly alone even after Aang broke his promise. Most soldiers wouldn’t have made a promise like that in the first place, or upheld their end of the bargain. Zuko did. There was always a spark of good in him, a seed to be coaxed along.

“Thank you, for sharing this with me,” Sokka nodded. He didn’t want to thank Iroh, he wanted to apologise.

Iroh made a soft sort-of-smile, and waved permission for Sokka to leave. They didn’t need to use words, Iroh could see the pale discolouration on Sokka’s face, and Sokka could sense that the mood was too sombre to just jump to another conversation.

Sokka stumbled into Aang as he left the room, who held him up cautiously by his arms. Apparently they were back.

“Woah, are you okay, Sokka?” Aang asked, worried. “You look like you’re going to be sick.”

Sokka had been doing alright, but for some reason Aang’s word’s – and his soft voice, not quite yet graced with puberty – triggered an intrusive thought of thirteen-year-old Zuko having his face seared by a vicious and cruel man that he called his father and Sokka needed to very promptly find the nearest bush – which he did – and was very quickly very sick all over the very beautiful roses that grew there.

Aang pat his back with quiet support while Sokka tried to apologise, and gently made soft sounds of encouragement.

Sokka choked on a sob that threatened to break free while his body was in the process of catharsis, and realized he was done. He slowly slid down the wall he had been leaning on and grabbed his hair so tight he probably pulled some bits loose.

“Wedding stress?” Aang questioned, mildly distressed by Sokka’s behavior.

“What?” Sokka quickly shook his head. “No, no. I… did you know?”

Aang frowned. There was a lot he knew. Saying ‘yes’ felt dangerous, though.

“Know what?”

“About Zuko’s scar?”

Oh.

Aang’s mood deflated, and he nodded cautiously, sitting next to Sokka against the wall.

_They were training in the Western Air Temple when Zuko had brought it up. Aang had been complaining that Zuko learnt all the basics when he was a kid, but Aang had to try and learn when he was older, and less malleable. Which was definitely a bullshit excuse, he was younger than most Avatars who had to learn the other elements, but he was struggling and wanted to complain._

_“After this, I had to relearn my bending,” Zuko said softly, only briefly gesturing to his face before his body returned to moving in a fluid motion through his forms, Aang mirroring. “I would have a panic attack or pass out every time there was fire near my body, including my own fire. It took a year before I could even practice with Uncle.”_

_Aang nodded solemnly, feeling the white hot energy flow through him, directed by the forms they practiced. It was a good balance, focus on his forms while trying to process the fact_ that Zuko was talking about his scar and his trauma _and stay upright while processing that. Aang took a moment to think about this information Zuko had given him._

_“Did your accident help you learn to appreciate fire?” he asked. It wasn’t very polite but Aang felt it was the most eloquent way to format his thoughts – except that Zuko suddenly stopped still and Aang felt shame at his words. he had been too forward, too assuming._

_“Accident?” Zuko whispered softly, brow furrowed. Aang slowed his movements to a stop as well and cocked his head._

_“You know, the accident. How you got your scar,” he pressed. “I’m not sure what happened so I-”_

_“You don’t- Aang,” Zuko gathered his thoughts, pointing to his face, “Aang, this wasn’t an accident.”_

_What._

_“This was a lesson, to teach me respect and fear. This scar was done purposefully. I didn’t ask for this, I didn't screw up some forms or fall onto someone’s flame. I was branded. I was knelt down. He held my face and didn’t let go.”_

_Aang felt sick to his stomach and his mouth was dry. He felt like he knew the answer, but he needed to ask it anyway, to be sure._

_“Who?”_

_It wasn’t a question. It didn’t sound like one, and they both knew the answer. Zuko confirmed regardless, summoning all the strength in his body to stay put._

_“My-...” he couldn’t call him that. “Firelord Ozai.”_

_There was an energy in the courtyard that made Aang’s insides crawl. It was pain and suffering suffocating them both, and he knew he couldn’t do anything to help it._

_“How old were you?” Aang whispered, voice full of question and shock and maybe even awe._

_There was a long and heavy pause before Zuko murmured back, “Thirteen.”_

_Zuko glances over at Aang and noticed his eyes getting wet, and huffed in frustration_

_“Listen-” Zuko raised his arms and took a strong stance with legs apart and feet planted firmly, ready to begin the lesson again. “It was shit, it is shit, but I don’t want your pity. I don't want your sadness, okay? It happened. He may be my blood but he’s not my father, and I understand that now, that’s why I'm here. I spent three years being angry and upset about it and trying to win his love back, and all I did was hurt myself and everyone around me. I'm here now, and it’s a part of me. Can we get back to the lesson?”_

Aang nodded solemnly. “Yeah, I know about that. It was the first time I ever heard Zuko swear.”

Sokka let his eyes close and appreciated Aang’s method of compartmentalization.

“Zuko did really good today, by the way,” Aang said softly. “Your dad was impressed.”

Sokka wasn’t sure if that made him feel better or worse, given the context of Zuko’s history with his own father, but he let Aang sit close next to him and brush his hair while he put his thoughts together.

~*~

“I think your dad likes me?” was the first thing out of Zuko’s mouth when Sokka saw him next, approaching the door to Sokka’s room. “I don’t think I did well, though, I-”

Zuko was abruptly cut off by Sokka wrapping him up tight in his arms, face buried in Zuko’s neck.

“Uh…?”

Sokka didn’t speak, couldn’t, and didn’t say anything that night, either.

He wasn’t an idiot. He knew Zuko’s relationship with his family was worse than sub-par, he saw the homicidal glint in Ozai’s eyes and knew that Zuko hadn’t been treated well. Zuko would flinch sometimes if someone pat him on the back, he left the room when Hakoda showed Sokka affection, he apologized when he entered rooms and sometimes he would return from meetings in the throne room with his clothes soaked through with sweat.

Ursa wasn’t around anymore, and he knew it wasn’t of natural causes. He had seen the marriage contract that he’s sure Zuko’s parents would have signed, where Ursa would have signed her life away, unable to leave the palace.

Sokka knew that Zuko’s childhood wasn’t one of love and care, that he was raised in a palace but he wasn’t spoiled, certainly not in the ways that mattered.

But he didn’t think a person had room in themselves for such vile and despicable feelings to hurt their son in that way, over something so petty. To cast them out with an impossible task, abusing a child’s emotions by dangling a glint of hope that he might one day be worthy of love.

Sokka was filled with sick, cruel and overwhelming feelings of wrath and vengeance, but he couldn’t bring himself to let go of Zuko, not even if he really thought he had the strength to kill Ozai. Because it wasn’t about Ozai, not anymore.

So he stayed. He stayed, and held onto (a relatively confused) Zuko under the cover of moonlight and didn’t let go.


	14. PART XII

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> if i had known how many chapters there were going to be i wouldn't have used roman numerals.

Before they knew it, winter was winding itself up, the wedding was nearly upon them, and it was time for the pre-wedding preparations to begin.

“Toph Beifong!” Sokka called out, the familiar rumbling of earth-bending alerting him to an incoming force.

“There’s my dashing bride!” the familiar voice called back, and Toph appeared in the courtyard on a giant hill of stone bricks that she had bent underneath herself to move quicker.

Toph flung herself into the air and Sokka shrieked but instinctively reached out to catch her, both of them knocked to the ground to the tune of Aang’s giggles.

The teenagers were gathered in the courtyard, awaiting for all attendees to arrive before the two grooms-to-be split off to spend the next three days before the wedding at their separate bachelor parties. Sokka and Zuko had been first to finish breakfast and move into the court area, closely followed by Aang and Katara, and the four of them had waited for only a short amount of time before a palanquin brought Mai into their sights.

(Zuko had made a smug and sly face at Sokka when she arrived, and his teasing expression was met with Sokka crossing his arms and glowering, decidedly turning to distract himself by talking to Katara.)

Toph sat on Sokka’s chest and greeted Aang like all was fine, ignoring Sokka’s flailing beneath her while he was slowly suffocated.

“Toph!” Sokka gasped. “Get off me!”

“You calling me heavy?” the girl remarked, crossing her arms and refusing to get up.

Sokka huffed and dug his fingers into her sides, laughing with triumph as she yelped and jumped off him instantly.

“You called me a bride!” Sokka retorted, in response to her accusation. “It’s bad enough that I’m the only guy at my own bachelor party, you don’t have to call me the bride.”

“I think that was directed at you, Twinkle Toes,” Toph cackled, and Sokka looked over to see Aang mouthing an apology at him.

Traitor. They both were. Toph and Aang had both elected to go to Zuko’s bachelor party instead of his.

“If it’s any consolation,” Toph gestured with her hand, “I’m only going to Zuko’s because I think it will be more fun.”

Sokka resisted the urge to hit the child – _child_ , he had to remind himself that Toph was a _child_ and he should not punch a _child_ smack in the jaw – and rolled his eyes.

“Thanks, Toph, I feel all better now.”

“No problem!”

She smiled up at him, then her face dropped like she had a thought, and the girl hummed. Sokka hummed back in question, and Toph lowered her voice.

“Think we could have a small chit-chat?” she asked, grabbing out at Sokka’s arm and – entirely without permission – clambering all over him to make her way up to sit on his shoulders.

Sokka, knowing better than to tell her no, let Toph clamber aboard and held her legs tight to keep her steady.

“Princess Sokka is going to show me around!” Toph called out, ignoring Katara’s questioning about how she would be able to see the grounds if she was on Sokka’s shoulders.

(Toph was on Sokka’s shoulders because she was tired and didn’t really want to expend the effort of ‘looking’ at anything, and certainly didn’t want to walk, but she would never tell anyone that. She didn’t need to tell Sokka, though, he knew from the way she slumped over his head, nearly asleep.)

When they eventually reached the gardens, Sokka set Toph down (less than gracefully) and let her take in the gardens in for a moment, waiting for the little firebomb of an earthbender to be the one to initiate the conversation.

“So,” Toph punched Sokka in the arm, a fantastic initiation to a conversation, “Were you ever going to tell me you and Zuko were a thing? Or did you think it was fine to just send a wedding invitation and that was the end of it?”

Sokka scowled, realizing with a guilty feeling in his chest that Toph had been left out of this whole endeavour.

“Technically speaking, this is an arranged marriage,” he looked pointedly at her, not caring that she couldn’t see his dry expression. “Which I’m sure you’ve guessed by now, Miss High-Society?”

“No,” she answered honestly, because Toph was always honest even when it was brutal. “I know you guys tried really hard to hide it on Ember Island but I knew about it, I was just waiting on one of you to accidentally let slip that you were together. Then I got a letter from Zuko asking for me to bend a piece of my space rock for him and then a _wedding_ _invitation_.”

Sokka let himself take that information on board, brushing over the pendant on the inside of his wrist and ignoring Toph’s incessant poking and asking over and over ‘what do you mean arranged?’ while she did so.

“If you knew we were together, did you know we broke up?”

Toph stopped her poking.

“Kinda?” she shrugged. “It’s pretty hard to figure out what’s going on when no one tells me anything-” _ouch_ “-but I could feel it. Not like the way I can feel things with earthbending, but like an energy. When we were on our way back to the palace with Ozai. I could feel something was wrong with you.”

“My leg was broken.”

Toph waved a hand, sighing in exasperation. “That wasn’t it and we both know it!”

“Is it a blind thing? Picking up on energies?”

He earned a smack on the arm (maybe it was deserved? It was hard to tell sometimes if Toph was telling him off or showing affection) and she shook her head.

“I don’t think so, at least,” Toph laid back against the dirt and sighed. “I just know you guys. Everything felt wrong, and I didn’t know for sure but I assumed.”

Sokka sat and waited for a moment, one eyebrow cocked.

“You know, this is usually the part where normal people ask how Zuko and I are doing now that we’re getting married,” he jeered, leaning closer. Toph blew out a scoff and inadvertently (or maybe on purpose?) spat in Sokka’s face, prompting him to a) pull back, and b) make a promise to himself to never lean close to Toph’s face again.

“I’m offended you’d classify me in with ‘normal people’!” she cried out. “And I can tell you’re doing fine, so it’s not really any of my business.”

Sokka liked Toph.

He pulled her head in between his arms in a headlock and scruffed up her hair while she incessantly kicked and screamed. They eventually relaxed in the closest thing to a hug that Toph would allow, and Sokka enjoyed having Toph back in their dynamic again, the whole squad back together after so many months.

When they finally retreated to the courtyard to greet the others, Suki was yet to arrive – now fashionably late – and it appeared that Zuko’s side of the party was getting ready to leave.

Toph preoccupied herself with teasing Aang – and judging by the stances and the rocks flying around them she appeared to be grilling him on whether or not he was keeping up his earthbending training – and when Sokka looked around the courtyard he found Zuko looking back at him.

Zuko made a slight shift of his gaze and tilted his head to gesture behind him, and Sokka understood, following the prince’s steps behind the statues that lined the edge of the courtyard.

Zuko grabbed his wrists and kissed him before Sokka could quite prepare for it, but he certainly wasn’t going to complain.

When the prince pulled back he had a dopey grin and a light blush and Sokka rolled his eyes.

“Stop being cute,” he mumbled, poking Zuko’s cheek.

“We’re going now,” Zuko pulled Sokka in and mumbled into the side of his neck. “So… I guess I’ll see you soon?”

Sokka’s grin dropped as it hit him, truly hit him for the first time, that the next time he saw Zuko would be on the front steps of the palace, in front of the whole world, getting married.

 _Humans tend to respond when spoken to_ , Sokka reminded himself, and forced his lips to move.

“Yeah,” he took Zuko’s head between his hands and kissed his quickly. “Don’t have too much fun without me.”

Zuko rolled his eyes and pulled away, “I don’t know, Sokka, a bachelor party with a monk, a thirteen-year-old and Mai? Bound to be pretty hectic.”

Sokka smiled despite himself and gently brushed his fingertips over the pendant on the inside of his wrist.

~*~

“What, is it just you and me for this party?” Katara joked as her and Sokka waited on the steps leading up to the palace. Suki, who was due at least thirty minutes ago, had still not arrived.

“I hope not,” Sokka retorted back, “I would have to call off the wedding if I only had you for my party.”

“I’m not that bad,” Katara narrowed her eyes and sat on the steps with him.

Neither of them spoke, Sokka’s eyes fixed on the grand path that lead up to the palace.

“Yeah, come on, Sokka, Katara’s not so bad, right?”

The voice came from behind him, and Sokka barely got to register who it belonged to before he was enveloped in green robes and a tight hug.

“I’m sorry I’m late,” she hummed, eventually letting go of Sokka to embrace Katara. “I got here as soon as possible, but we got delayed between Kyoshi Island and the mainland and that just set everything back.”

He didn’t know what it was, but when Suki turned to him and caught his eyes, something happened like a crackle of energy in the air, and like something she’d always been able to do, in a moment it was like Suki could see everything inside of him. The rollercoaster that had been the past few months, all laid out for her. He could see something in her, too, a bittersweet pain behind her eyes when she looked at him.

“Hey, you,” Suki grinned, voice soft like a whisper, and leant her forehead against Sokka’s. “You invited your ex to your bachelor party?”

“Wouldn’t have it without her,” Sokka joked back, brushing his thumb against her cheek. “I’ve missed you.”

Katara, clearly sensing the tenderness of the moment, had moved away from them to help a driver load some luggage onto a carriage. Sokka appreciated his little sister’s keen aptitude for reading situations. She didn’t always act on that reading, but he appreciated when she did.

Sokka nosed Suki’s face and held her hands.

“Are you okay?” he asked, voice barely a breath. She was shaking.

“Oh, Sokka, I have a lot of things to tell you,” she pulled back, wiping at her eyes. “It’s been a year.”

Sokka couldn’t help but laugh, nodded and bringing the warrior in for another hug.

“You’re telling me.”

~*~

The purpose of the first night of the bachelor party was to – in the most political of terms – get fucking _wrecked_.

Obviously, with only a few spotted adults, getting wrecked was not on the list of traditions to accomplish, but the first night was definitely still going to be a party of sorts.

Of course, while there was alcohol and firebending involved in Zuko’s side of the villa, it was hard to truly party when three out of the four attendees were raised with a strict code of manners and the fourth attendee was a monk.

Mai, with the unnecessarily eager encouragement from Toph, produced a bottle of wine and nearly smiled when the young earthbender cried out in celebration.

“Not for you, shorty,” Mai quipped, pouring a glass and handing it immediately to Zuko. “I’m trying to get this drama queen to lighten up and have some fun.”

Mai didn’t bother offering any to Aang – refusing to let the two minors in her presence drink, especially not the very strong stuff she had stowed away specifically for this occasion – and actively kept moving the bottle away from Toph.

The young earthbender was befuddled, unsure how Mai kept predicting her movements, including the secret earthbending. This dynamic became Aang’s personal entertainment for the night, and the four of them settled in around a fire with warm food and many, many, many embarrassing stories about Zuko to full the night ahead of them.

~*~

“So,” Katara pulled her brother aside. “How about, for tonight, I go and eat some food, wash my hair, get some sleep, and you and Suki can catch up?”

Sokka nearly cried.

He pulled Katara in close and made sure to mess her hair up as much as possible as he did so.

“You are the best sister!” he exclaimed, letting her pull back. “I owe you, Katara.”

“You do,” she agreed, then pulled herself out of his grip with a smile and wandered off to begin her night of self-care.

They were staying in the same villa as the others, just on opposite sides, and Sokka was sure that she would end up at Zuko’s party at some point tonight. A part of him hoped she did, too. Katara and Zuko had established a beautiful – surprising, and sometimes downright terrifying, but still beautiful – friendship, and Sokka would hate to think that Katara was going to spend the night alone when her friends were just down the hall.

He let the thought flow from his head, trusting Katara to make her own decisions (as if it wasn’t the only way she ever made decisions, ever) and jogged off to find Suki.

~*~

“Secret side-switch!” someone called out from the bushes, and Aang turned his head towards the familiar voice.

“Katara?”

“Hey!” the waterbender stepped out into the clearing where Zuko, Mai, Toph and Aang had been sitting, fire blazing and Toph standing on a rock she had bended underneath her feet, clearly in the middle of a story. “Sokka and Suki are catching up, so I thought I’d come say hi.”

Katara didn’t miss the way that Zuko’s face dropped for a fraction of a second when she mentioned Suki.

She smirked and sat down next to Aang, who caught her up on Toph’s story, though there wasn’t much catching up to do, considering Katara was present when Zuko lost his firebending. Although, there were many details Toph had thrown in that, while amusing, Katara felt that they definitely weren’t accurate.

“Zuko appeared from the shadows – probably – stepped forward towards the fire and made the accusation, loud as day, ‘Toph Beifong is a theif and a liar!’-”

“Toph, that’s not even close to what happened, my belongings weren’t _stolen_ I lost my fire-”

“Hey, who’s the one telling the story, here??”

~*~

Suki wiped her eyes, running a hand through her hair.

Her legs were tossed over Sokka’s the both of them sitting on the floor together, propped up against the furniture in the room while the ate their dinner.

Suki had finished relaying the story of her years’ worth of happenings, and Sokka was taking a minute to soak it all in.

“So,” he took a quick breath through his nose and huffed it out again, “Eiko came and spoke to you, after the war, and then Dai did _that_ , and then Kichi found out about Eiko and Mariko and told you, and you spent six months training with Toph and some police forces to get away from the madness, the Kichi found you and spent two months training with you, and then-”

“I offered to go home, and Kichi told me that before she left she promised Akihiro she would marry him when she came back,” Suki nodded.

Sokka couldn’t help but laugh, just a little bit, at the sheer madness of the story she had unloaded upon him, and Suki dropped her head into her hands, laughing a little under her breath, too.

“Sokka, I went home last year thinking that the world was righted,” Suki looked up at the ceiling, laying back against the couch in disbelief. “I’ve faced Princess Azula in hand-to-hand combat, I’ve crossed the Serpent’s Pass, I’ve taken down a fleet of Fire Nation airships on the day that firebenders are at their strongest, and kidnapped the most revered prison warden in the country in nothing but rags! I thought I would be able to face whatever they could throw at me.”

Sokka shook his head.

“We spent months, years, learning how to fight an impossible enemy,” he threw his hands in the air, “And look at us! Defeated by people, and their _feelings_.”

~*~

“Wait,” Katara’s head popped up, catching Zuko’s eye with a look he couldn’t place. “Does everyone here know?”

“Know what?” was Zuko’s immediate response; a regretable response, he realized when Katara bent her eyebrows and he suddenly understood what she meant.

“Oh!” Zuko’s cheeks were a bit pink and his features flat, as he glanced around the circle, doing a mental tally of who was in the loop about his whole situation with Sokka. “Uh… yes?”

He spared a glance to Toph, who was already waving her hand.

“If this is about you and Sokka, then that’s old news, Sparky,” she drawled, clearly uninterested.

“Yeah, he sent me a letter the day it happened,” Mai piped up, examining her nails.

Aang and Toph were in stitches, making incoherent jokes to each other about Zuko and how smitten he was, while Katara was all of a sudden very interested in the nature of the relationship that Zuko and Mai had.

(Zuko realised, in that moment, that Katara – and by extension, Sokka – thought that he and Mai had actually been in a real relationship, and he realised he probably needed to explain some things to Sokka.)

When Zuko tuned back in, Katara had asked what Mai’s reaction to the letter was, head titled like this was a romantic play she was watching and not her friend and brother’s lives.

“Eh,” Mai shrugged, “It was kind of like, ‘finally! Ugh, Zuko, could you have waited any longer?’ or something.”

What Zuko could have never predicted, though probably should have, was the immediate ganging up that happened, while he was forced to endure everyone’s ‘hilarious’ stories of him and Sokka being ‘emotionally repressed’ and ‘dorks’.

He sipped at the wine with a pout on his lips and let Mai continue filling his glass while Toph began her dramatic re-enactment (which was much more false than it was true) of his and Sokka’s conversation on the beach at Ember Island.

~*~

“Wait,” Sokka paused, his hand freezing, fingers entangled in Suki’s hair, where she was laying on his chest while they spoke, “Have you ever met Avatar Kyoshi? Through Aang?”

Suki sat up, propped up by her arms as she started down at Sokka.

“No?” she looked almost offended, very clearly upset about the fact that they hadn’t spoken about this before. “You can do that??”

Sokka was taken aback. “Oh, yeah, his past lives possess his body sometimes to enter our world and talk to other people. Kyoshi’s pretty great, actually.”

Suki made a squeaking scream in the back of her throat and Sokka had a feeling that Suki and Aang were going to do some serious catching up once the wedding was over. Maybe before, if the vein pulsing on her forehead was any indication.

~*~

By the time Katara called it quits and left, returning to the other side of the villa, Zuko – who had pretty much been sipping at wine non-stop for the past two hours while they swapped stories – was a pliable, warm marshmallow of a person, a few steps beyond tipsy.

“Are you ready to get married?” Mai teased, twirling Zuko’s hair in her finger. His head was in her lap, cheeks flushed from the alcohol and body too heavy to move properly.

“Is anyone ever?” he hummed, grabbing the sides of her face. “I really love him a lot…”

Toph groaned and tossed a pebble at Zuko’s side. “Stop being gross.”

Mai kissed Zuko’s forehead tenderly.

“I’m kind of sad that we don’t get to get married now,” she smirked. Zuko grinned dopily up at her.

“I’m a little sad about it, too,” he answered honestly. “But I like Sokka. Besides, no one pressures you to have kids right after the wedding when you’re marrying a ‘Water Tribe savage’, right?”

“And you’re biologically incapable,” Mai reminded him.

“That too! See? Dodged a fireblast, there…”

Toph and Aang watched behind badly hidden giggles as Zuko hummed to himself, eyelids struggling to stay open.

“Sparky, sweetie, you’re done for the night,” Toph cackled, smacking a foot on the floor to send a pillar of rock under his glass up, catching the glass almost effortlessly and tipping its contents out behind her under Mai’s careful watch.

Zuko hummed in response, and after what must have been a bit of thinking, blurted out, “Mai’s nice.”

Mai, Aang and Toph all questioned, “Nice?” at the same time, acknowledging that this was not a very commonly used descriptor for the young woman.

“She’s so nice!” Zuko’s hands were in the air. “She took care of me and kept me safe and stuff! She’d make a great fake-wife! She could kill assassins with her knives, she wouldn’t hold my hand at the big events, and she could take all the concubines! Easy!”

Mai rolled her eyes and a dangerous smirk graced her lips for a split second.

“What about Aang? Would he make a good fake-husband?” she asked, and Toph could practically feel the discomfort radiating off the young monk.

“No, that defeats the purpose of having a fake spouse to hide how fucking _gay_ you are, Mai,” Zuko retorted and that was it for Toph and Aang.

They both burst out into a fit of giggles, relishing in the image of uptight, ‘hello’ instead of ‘hi’, weirdly formal Prince Zuko swearing and talking about his sexuality at all – something no one in the room but Mai had heard before. Toph and Aang were on the floor, and Mai took their dispositions, and Zuko’s, as a sign that the night was probably over, collecting her drunk friend in a strong grip and guiding him down to his room.

She pretended to ignore him when he mumbled a thank you to her for taking care of him, and pretended he was only talking about tonight, and not their entire lives together.

“Love you, Zuko,” she whispered, voice cracking from underuse, particularly of those words. Zuko’s eyes, barely open, met hers and he smiled.

“I love you too, Mai.”

She let herself feel something, just for a minute, then muttered, “shut up, Zuko, you’re drunk,” turned on her heel, and closed the door.

~*~

Katara _was_ tip-toeing to her room, but she was nosy at heart, and when she heard Sokka say, “Is it weird that I still love you?” she couldn’t help herself. She held her breath and leant against the wall to hear their conversation.

“I don’t think so,” Suki answered straight away, then followed up with, “What kind of love do you mean?”

Sokka hummed. “I don’t want to run off with you, don’t worry. It just kind of feels like you’re still my everything, just a little bit. I don’t want to lose you, no matter how good the other prize is.”

“Aw, Sokka,” Suki jeered, and Katara could hear the sickly sweet sarcasm even through the wall, “Prize is definitely the word I feel mostly comfortable for you to describe me and Zuko as.”

“Ha ha,” Katara could _hear_ him rolling his eyes. “You’re the best prizes money could buy. Or, that contracts can bind me to for the rest of my life and legacy.”

Katara frowned. There was a grumpy tone to his words, like it wasn’t fully a joke, and Suki seemed to pick up on that too.

“What’s going on, Sokka?”

There was a brief pause and Katara held her breath, worried about the million possibilities that were about to come out of her brother’s mouth. Were he and Zuko okay?

“I’m getting married in three days.”

“And?”

“I don’t think I want to, Suki.”

It was one of Sokka’s gut confessions, the ones that came with no preamble because preamble allowed him to avoid saying what he meant. His gut confessions that came from a deep and vulnerable place, very rarely seeing the light.

Katara knew she was invading something that was too personal for her to justify staying any longer.

~*~

Day two was when the pampering began, to get everyone up to royal standard. Day two was reserved for facial preparation, and also for advice and gift giving within the parties.

Sokka fingered the pendant that sat snugly against the inside of his wrist – clasped at the top and bottom of the circle so that it didn’t dangle – and let the cool stone sooth him as people prodded at his face.

He strained his ears and heard one of the attendants in the back of the room mention something about a lightening agent to ‘neutralise’ his skin tone and his grip on the pendant faltered.

“My skin will not be bleached,” he spoke in his most formal voice, the sound startling everyone in the room after he had been sitting in silence for so long. “That is not an option. If you disagree I would invite you to ask Prince Zuko himself.”

The man who had initially suggested it went pale and quietly cleared half of the creams off a tray in his assistant’s hands.

Sokka suppressed a sneer. They didn’t fear him, and he didn’t want them to, but he knew it was because they didn’t respect him yet either. He was a big, new change for the palace and he had three generations of prejudice to combat to gain any respect in this country.

They were afraid of Zuko, though, which he wasn’t entirely happy about either but it did help get his point across.

Sokka ran his fingertips over the pendant again and steadied himself. Two days to go.

~*~

“Hey,” Katara nudged Sokka’s shoulder with her hand as she approached him, swiping a cup of hot tea from the table. “I just got a letter from Dad, the tribe is here.”

Sokka frowned.

“What do you mean ‘the tribe is here’?”

Katara smiled and handed him the paper.

“The tribe is here. Not everyone, of course, but everyone who could make it. They’ve arrived at the Fire Nation and will be attending the wedding.”

Sokka didn’t quite know how to feel when he held the note from their father. Couldn’t quite believe it. The tribe hadn’t been all too happy about their next chief being married off to the future leader of a country that had systematically wiped out their population over a hundred years.

He rubbed his chin and nodded mutely.

The Southern Water Tribe had willingly travelled to visit the Fire Nation.

~*~

He knew it was bad, that this was an important tradition for the Fire Nation but he couldn’t stay still any longer. He needed to speak to someone, and the only person he wanted to talk to was Zuko.

Which is why Sokka was sneaking around the halls of the villa under the cover of night looking for the door to Zuko’s room.

Technically, he didn’t know which one it was because obviously, he hadn’t been shown that room. They weren’t meant to see each other, the entire villa was split to avoid them being in the same area. But, it wasn’t hard to guess that the biggest room, the beautiful ornate doors, at the end of the hallway which was identical to the one in Sokka’s side of the villa, was probably Zuko’s room.

He sucked in a deep breath and knocked.

(Zuko had just barely succumbed to the warm grip of sleep, it just barely holding him in soft tendrils, when the knock on the door pulled him awake in a shock.)

“Zuko?” Sokka’s voice sounded out, clear on both sides in the quiet of the night.

There was no response on the other side but Sokka could hear him shuffling around.

“Sokka?” Zuko’s voice eventually rang out, and he sounded close to the door, like he was standing on the other side. “What are you doing?”

Sokka put a hand on the door, distantly.

“I’m sorry,” he breathed. “I’m just freaking out a bit, I wanted to talk to you. I know I can’t come in.”

Zuko smiled softly despite himself, and sat down against the door.

“What’s going on?”

Sokka could hear that Zuko’s voice was coming from lower down, and had heard him shift and sit down. Sokka followed suit, fidgeting with the chipping in the paint at the very bottom of the door.

“I don’t think I’m ready to get married…”

His words were small, like if he said them softly then they would be rounded out and wouldn’t feel so much like spikes coming out of his tongue.

“I know…” Zuko sighed, letting his fingertips push up against the space under the door, not even enough for him to slip them underneath. “I don’t think I am either…”

“Really?” Sokka sounded genuinely surprised. “You seem so fine with everything that’s happening…”

“Yes,” Zuko agreed, unable to disagree, really. “I told you. I knew this was my life. I just… I’m appreciating how lucky I am, that I get to have you.”

Sokka frowned. It felt warm and overwhelming to hear, filling up his chest with light, but it didn’t help their dilemma.

“I don’t-” Zuko cut in quickly, “I’m not saying that I’m okay with getting married because I want to marry you for love, or something, that’s not what I mean, and you don’t need that pressure right now…”

Sokka could feel his warmth through the door. Benders. Consuming and creating the world around them without even realizing.

“What I meant was… of everyone I was going to be matched with, I’m glad it was you, because you’re my friend… if we have nothing else, we can still be friends. And, whenever you’re sick it this place, whenever you’re sick of me, you can go back to the South Pole. I made sure our marriage license allowed for you to go back home if you want…”

Zuko huffed.

“I’m just glad I get someone who I know will understand me, you laugh at my jokes even when they suck, and you can spar with me, and I already know you… And I’m selfish.”

Sokka snorted and waited for Zuko to keep going.

“I’m really selfish, Sokka, I really am…” his voice was so quiet Sokka had to strain to hear it. “I kept… I have no self-control around you. And it’s awful, and possessive, but I was really happy when you said that there was no one back at the South Pole you could marry. I don’t want you to marry someone else…”

Sokka was biting his lip, now, and he was worried he was going to draw blood if Zuko kept talking.

“I love you. And it’s easier to say all of this when I’m not looking at you, and I’m sorry for that too. And… and I love you, so, if this isn’t what you want then I want you to call it off. If you don’t want to get married, or you need to postpone, then say the word, and I’ll do it.”

Sokka’s heart was in his throat and he just wanted to open the door.

“I just want you to be happy…”

Sokka smiled weakly. “I thought I told you to stop trying to make everyone else happy?”

He heard Zuko snort out a laugh on the other side of the door.

“I am making myself happy,” Zuko retorted. “I couldn’t live with myself if I knew you didn’t want to go through with this but we did anyway. I want you to be happy, Sokka, and that’s _my_ wish. I love you.”

“I know.”

“I’m not going to stop saying it, though. I fucked this up the first time by being selfish and scared, and I don’t want to do that again.”

Sokka put his hand against the door and laughed when he felt the heat.

“Zuko, don’t set the door on fire,” he warned quickly, and felt the heat dissipate a little as he heard Zuko shuffle behind the door.

Grown up conversation.

“Thank you,” Sokka said, soft and genuine. “I…”

Zuko held his breath.

“I appreciate it,” Sokka finished, and Zuko tried not to be disappointed. They were having a different conversation, it wasn’t the time to naively hope that Sokka was ready to love him back.

Sokka continued, “Thank you for being honest with me. I know you’re not good at this, and I know for sure I’m not good at this. I hate talking about _feelings_ , they’re mostly bad and there’s so many of them and I hate them…”

He heard Zuko chuckle lowly and smiled.

“Listen,” the warrior bowed his head, forehead pressed against the door. “I’m going to think about it. About what you said.”

Zuko felt sick.

“But, I… I think I’m just overthinking everything…” Sokka’s voice sounded tired. “I don’t think I want you to marry anyone else, either.”

 _‘I think I might love you, too,’_ Sokka thought to himself but didn’t dare say. Not while everything felt temporary and disjointed. Not in case he was wrong.

~*~

Aang found Sokka in the hallway the next morning, slumped against a door he knew was Zuko’s, and the thought of waking him hurt a little bit, so he summoned strength, centered himself, and softly airbend-ed Sokka up, softly let the warriors body fall into his arms, and carried him back to bed.

~*~

Mai could tell Zuko was out of it as day three began, and she could tell it wasn’t a hangover, but she said nothing.

~*~

Katara was maybe a bit in love with the Fire Nation, if only for their amazing spa workers.

Her feet were rubbed down, soaked with flower petals, and a pedicurist had polished everything to the point where Katara felt that her feet – _feet_ – looked _pretty_.

This was after the hour-long soak in a bathtub which was kept to a perfect temperature with firebending, the water infused with herbs and oils, she was scrubbed down with scented soaps, her hands were dipped in some kind of wax, the wax was peeled, then were soaked and scrubbed and manicured the same as the rest of her, her hair was thoroughly washed, dried, brushed, treated and braided, and Katara felt like she was _melting_.

~*~

Suki was fairly used to people being in close proximity to her in her nakedness or intimate situations – one became accustomed to a new stage of personal space while living in close quarters with a group of Kyoshi Warriors – so she was okay with all of the strange hands touching her skin and scrubbing her body, but if that little manicurist made another tut about the state of her nails she was going to dislocate the woman’s throat.

~*~

Aang felt guilty, because as a monk he wasn’t supposed to enjoy material things like baths and massages and having people file his nails and shave his head smooth.

But he did. He felt bad about it, he did, but he reminded himself of Yang-Chen’s words that as the Avatar he was not to shirk his attachment to worldly possessions as his duty was to the world, and he let himself sink into the tub a bit further.

This wedding thing was awesome.

~*~

Toph kicked a guy in the face for touching her feet, and (sort of) apologized, and once they had all discussed why foot-touching was a no-no and would continue to be so, they all seemed to calm down and she was able to let herself enjoy the soak in the tub.

~*~

Sokka couldn’t stop thinking about Zuko’s offer. He fidgeted with his pendant, and when someone asked him to take it off, he politely refused.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> listen, toph and suki are barely in this fic and i’m aware of that and the reason is that i can’t do either of them justice okay. i love them both SO FUCKING MUCH but i can’t nail their personalities in writing so be nice to me.


	15. PART XIII

The day of the wedding dawned.

As the sun rose, Aang was already up and gently helping Zuko sit up, suggesting they firebend some stress away to start the day. Zuko might have never gotten out of bed quicker in his life.

Aang noticed he was off his game, when they began, but wasn’t very surprised.

~*~

Suki had to physically pull Sokka out of the bed.

He wasn’t asleep when she arrived, it honestly looked like he had hadn’t slept at all.

She climbed into the bed behind him and kissed his cheek, holding his wrist steady and feeling the tiny tremors under her hand.

“You can do it,” she whispered softly, trying to sooth his shaking. “I promise. You’re just getting stuck in your big head again. You’ll be okay. I’ll be right there.”

Sokka couldn’t speak. He felt ill, like if he opened his mouth his nausea would overcome him.

~*~

The morning of the wedding was dedicated to last minute pampering – a bath, checking the nails in case they needed a touch-up already, and washing the face again.

Katara and Suki both eagerly agreed to have make up applied to their faces – make up trends in the Fire Nation preferred a natural look that they admired just a little, and for a special day in front of so much of the world, they felt it was appropriate to be made up. Toph, also, agreed to have her make up done for the day, because it was fun and also probably a good idea to uphold the Beifong name in front of the whole wide Fire Nation, and her parents who she knew had been invited.

Sokka and Zuko declined.

(Zuko because the make-up artists always assured that they would make it look natural, but were never able to blend properly around his scar, or sometimes just tried to cover it up completely, and it never, ever looked natural; Sokka technically didn’t decline but the artist asked him three times to sit still before giving up and assuring the young groom that he didn’t need it anyway.)

As the day drew on, it was time for the rest of the wedding party to leave, and for Sokka and Zuko to be escorted by the person of their choosing to the palace.

~*~

Zuko felt faint on the ride over, and Aang kept a hand on his back, and when Zuko choked out that he was pretty sure Sokka wouldn’t show, Aang assured him that Sokka would be there, not quite sure where Zuko got the idea from.

~*~

“Are you okay?” Katara asked softly, closing her hand over Sokka’s shaking ones.

She had been helping him with his robes and his hair, as they waited beside the entrance to the palace, atop the stairs that lead down to the courtyard. It was the same precipice that all royal events were held on, where Iroh’s coronation had been announced. Each groom had their own ‘room’ off to the side, and she knew Aang was on the other side of the platform between them, waiting with Zuko.

They had been braiding his hair along the top of his scalp to keep it in place throughout the events of the night when Katara couldn’t bear Sokka’s unnatural silence anymore.

Katara tilted her brother’s chin and forced their gazes to meet.

“Sokka, are you okay?” she repeated.

Sokka swallowed thickly, visibly trembling. “Katara, what if this is a big mistake?”

Ah, Sokka’s Very Typical Neurotic Tendencies had decided to crop up. She had been waiting for them.

Katara took her brother’s face in her hands and kept up an intense amount of eye contact.

“Sokka. If this is a mistake, it’s Dad’s mistake. _But_ , most importantly, this is not a mistake. This is not a mistake for you, or for Zuko, or for our Nations. This wedding is just a formality, and the marriage is just a contract. What happens between you and Zuko is whatever you want to make out of it, and you can decide that together, whenever you feel ready.”

He wasn’t convinced.

“It’s so permanent, Katara,” his voice was trembling. “This is it, this is the rest of my life after I step out there. My home, my family, my culture, all signed away.”

Katara’s eyes narrowed and she frowned. She cupped the back of Sokka’s neck and brought their foreheads together.

“You’re not losing any of that,” she whispered. “You’re not losing us, and you’re not losing your home, I know Zuko made sure of that. If you lose our culture, that’s on you.”

Sokka snorted at the joke and squeezed Katara’s hand as she continued.

“I think you were always going to end up here, Sokka, no matter what title you held to get here,” she answered honestly. “I think this is where you belong, maybe. The South Pole will always be home, and you better visit us, but I don’t think you were meant to take over as chief. I think you would have been here, maybe as an ambassador or an advisor or something. I think you would have stayed with Zuko.”

There were tears on her cheeks and he could hear it in her voice. Katara was preachy and whiny and laid her feelings out bare at the slightest nod but this was different. There was something deeper here, something personal between the two of them that no one else would ever touch. There was deep and genuine love in her words, a motherly infliction and a sibling bond that had been fortified by so many shared traumas. Katara was asking for her big brother to leave, and Sokka understood the significance of her doing so.

“I think you’re too big for the South Pole,” she admitted. “I don’t think this is the wrong choice.”

Sokka took his sister into his arms and held her tightly.

Maybe Katara was right.

The sun was getting lower, not quite time yet for the ceremony to begin, but it was very close. He knew he technically still had time to make his decision but-

Whether Katara was right or not, Sokka didn’t think it mattered. Because as the afternoon sun slowly moved lower, as he time drew nearer, he realized that he didn’t want to call the wedding off.

He was terrified about what would happen after they were married, but it was like there was a part of Sokka, silent in the discussion, but tugging him away from the metaphorical escape hatch. He didn’t want to leave.

“Ahem,” a voice cleared behind his shoulder and Sokka turned wildly into the arms of his father, still shaking.

“Woah!” Hakoda was taken aback, but embraced his son tightly. “Everything okay?”

Katara quietly moved away, giving them some space, murmuring that she would get Sokka when it was time to go. Suki had left only moments ago to take her place, and Iroh was already set up on the precipice, bespoke rug ready for them to meet on very soon.

“Listen,” Hakoda started softly, “I came here to talk to you. I wanted to apologise…”

Sokka drew his eyebrows together but didn’t let go of his father, and didn’t go to make a noise just yet.

“I wanted to apologise for the wedding, if this was something you didn’t want. I understand that-”

“Dad,” Sokka cut him off, moving back. “No. I need to tell you something, and it’s probably best to do it now.”

Hakoda looked very worried, but kept his face as neutral as possible, and gestured for his son to continue.

“Zuko and I were together, a long time ago,” he blurted, not looking his dad in the face. “And we were sort of on and off. And then, we said ‘no more, can’t do it anymore’ when he came to the South Pole, and then you said we were getting married. It was hard to hear, and it felt weird and awkward. And when Katara and I were fighting it was because she was trying to convince me to be with him again. And I didn’t know how to tell you, but I want you to know that we’re back together now, anyway.”

Hakoda’s face was unnervingly blank as he took this information in, and Sokka kept rambling before he could stop himself.

“For the past three days I’ve been freaking out about whether or not this is the right decision, but I think it is, and I think I want to marry Zuko,” it still felt weird to say, “And whether I do or don’t, it’s my decision about my relationship with him, not the wedding itself. I don’t hold you responsible for this.”

Hakoda opened his mouth, except that Katara appeared and gently took Sokka’s arm.

“It’s time,” she said softly, apologetic, and pulled Sokka out towards the precipice before anything more could be said.

They waited on the edge as Iroh waved his hand, gesturing towards where Aang was standing with the Zuko. Zuko’s name was read out and Aang walked him out onto the precipice, they turned to the cheering crowd that had gathered in the caldera below them, and Aang helped Zuko kneel down on the rug before leaving to stand off on the lower steps with Mai and Toph, and a series of Fire Nation officials that made up Zuko’s ‘family’, stretching down the palace stairs.

“Are you ready?” Katara squeezed Sokka’s arm where she held it.

“Not at all,” Sokka shook his head. “Let’s go.”

Katara had a small smile on her face when Iroh gestured to them. Sokka didn’t even hear his name, Katara just stepped out and he followed numbly. When they turned towards the crowd Sokka nearly fainted at the sheer amount of people who had gathered in the city square, stretching on as far as he could see.

Down the steps he could see his father, Bato, Suki, Gran-Gran and Pakku, (Sokka noticed dully that Bato was also standing on the step that was apparently reserved for parents and immediate family only, and he smiled) and on the line went of people from his village who had come out to the Fire Nation to watch his wedding.

Sokka reminded himself in a quick moment that this was his wedding, but today wasn’t about him. Today wasn’t about the marriage, most of the people here had come from all over the world not to watch a wedding, but for a symbol of peace and unity. Many of them were probably in disbelief, not able to believe that there could be a marriage between a Fire Nation Prince and a Water Tribe Warrior, at least not so soon after the war.

It took some of the pressure off, at least, knowing that he was an anonymous Water Tribe face to half of the crowd.

Katara pulled him towards the rug and helped him kneel down, before going and taking her spot at the edge of the precipice, across from Aang. Down the line on Zuko’s side he could see Mai, followed by Ty Lee and Toph, and some military officials Sokka thinks he might recognize but couldn’t place their names. Maybe one day, in the far future, if they were still together and still peaceable they could redo their wedding without so many people.

(Sokka nearly fell over backwards when he realised he was contemplating a _second_ _wedding to Zuko_ , he needed to get a grip.)

After much debate, they had decided to have the ceremony at sunset, and surely enough, both the moon and sun were present to bear witness to the marriage, and the sun was bathing everyone in a soft, golden glow.

Sokka’s knees were against Zuko’s and he knew logically that they were meant to take on the traditional Water Tribe position, but he couldn’t make his limbs move.

“Hey,” Zuko whispered, putting his hand gently on Sokka’s knee. “Are you okay?”

Sokka looked up and the second he saw Zuko, it was like everything changed. Everything settled, everything simmered, and everything was okay again. Zuko was in some dumb-looking, fancy ceremonial robes, with the shoulder spikes and gilded boots that had to be killing him to kneel in right now, but these clothes were black and gold, without the usual splash of red. He had his usual crown, a small red flame nestled into his top-knot.

Zuko wasn’t doing anything, he was just looking at him, worried and caring, and Sokka’s limbs unfroze like a wave of hot water melted them down.

Sokka took Zuko’s hands and dipped his forehead against his, and let his eyes close.

“I’m okay,” Sokka whispered, squeezing Zuko’s hands and hearing the firebender’s lungs deflate with relief, hands squeezing back. “Just nervous.”

Zuko breathed, smiling. “Me too.”

Iroh thanked the crowd for attending and began the ceremony, casting a thin ring of flame around them both, encasing them like a line of fire.

And it began. Iroh read strengthening statements about them both (he made a mention about Sokka’s strength and patience, and Sokka snorted before he could stop himself, Zuko coughing to contain a laugh as well), and then the wine was poured and drunk, he asked all three spirits to bless their union, and then all of a sudden they were done.

Sokka’s eyes finally opened when Iroh announced that they were married, pulling back to meet Zuko’s eyes and he couldn’t help himself when he leaned in and kissed him, sweet and chaste.

Zuko nosed at Sokka’s cheek and forced himself to pull away, and when he did he was beaming.

“I’m gonna pass out,” Sokka breathed, maybe only mostly joking, and Zuko pulled him to his feet as the procession began.

As per Water Tribe tradition, Gran-Gran and Pakku began the official dance and made their way down the stairs, chanting as they went.

(Sokka noticed Zuko intently listening in to the Water Tribe language and smiled to himself. He had a strong feeling that teaching Zuko his language was going to be a task scheduled in their near future together.)

The rest of the Water Tribe followed, dancing and chanting as well, and then it was their turn to walk behind them. Rather than make their friends carry them, which was sorely tempting, they had opted to keep the Fire Nation tradition of walking through the city on foot, with the red petals tossed before them. The friends and family that had been at the top of the stairs followed closely behind them – Hakoda, Bato, Katara and Aang also dancing and chanting.

The march continued nearly into the city centre, where the procession line dispersed to make their way back to the front entrance of the palace, and Sokka and Zuko ran together back up the path of flowers they had just come down, entering the palace from a different entrance.

They entered the doors of the palace, and Zuko pulled Sokka over to the side.

“Hello,” he smiled, both of them catching their breath from running up the stairs.

“Hi,” Sokka responded, looking distantly passed Zuko as he processed that they were married.

They were husbands now, that had been their wedding.

“Hi,” Zuko repeated, laughing to himself and stepping forward to drop his head onto Sokka’s shoulder, their hands clasped together. “Are you okay? Really okay?”

Sokka nodded, chest rising and falling with heavy breaths as he embraced Zuko’s calming warmth.

“Yes,” he breathed. “Yeah, I am. I’m okay. I’m sorry, for freezing up there. I was nervous.”

Zuko nodded. “You made your decision, though.”

Sokka stopped and smiled, ducking his head to kiss Zuko’s hair quickly.

“I did. I waited until the last minute because I couldn’t stop freaking out, but as much as the thought of getting up and going out and getting married terrified me, not a single part of me wanted to leave. Besides…”

Sokka lifted Zuko’s head and nosed his cheek and under his neck, forcing his way into a hug.

“I made the right decision. I knew that the second I saw you.”

Zuko made a sound and teased, ‘gross!’ at him, but Sokka heard Zuko’s breathing hitch when he had said it, and that was enough for him.

“Should we go and attend our wedding reception now?” Zuko mumbled against the crook of Sokka’s neck.

“Probably.”

They made their way through the halls (more accurately, Zuko made his way through the halls and tugged Sokka along) until they reached the back entrance to the ballroom, where an officiant of sorts was waiting for them.

“Ah! Prince Zuko,” the officiant bowed, then turned to Sokka and bowed again, “Prince Sokka.”

Sokka shot a look towards Zuko, who rolled his eyes quickly before the officiant rose.

“We will wait here for a moment longer, and once I have received word that the guests have all arrived, we will enter.”

The two young men nodded, hands still intertwined, and Sokka saw the officiants gentle smile as he noticed this.

“You know,” the man whispered, looking cautiously at Zuko like he was waiting for the prince to put the man back in his place, “When my husband and I got married, we joked about how soon enough we would see a royal prince marry a husband instead of a wife. He’s very excited that we both lived to see the day.”

Sokka barely had the time to process this, letting his body fill with joy at the pride in this nice man’s face, before another man came jogging over to them, informing the three that all the guests had arrived and it was time for the reception to begin.

“Ready?” the officiant waggled his eyebrows and Sokka nearly hugged the man for it, Zuko stifling a laugh beside him, then held up a hand indicating for them to remain in place while he opened the doors and stepped through.

“Introducing, Fire Prince Zuko and Fire Prince Sokka!” the officiant announced their arrival, and gestured to them as he stepped away, allowing the newlyweds to enter the ballroom.

The room was awash with applause, a band in the corner playing lively music quietly as they were led to the centre of the room and sat on cushions.

Sokka caught a look at his sister’s face and saw her mime sticking her fingers down her throat to gag, then mouthed ‘Fire Prince?’ at him incredulously. Sokka stifled a laugh and resisted shrugging at her, instead smiling and popping his eyebrows. That, surely, would be acceptable.

The next few minutes were sitting together on the cushions as guests walked by and gave them weddings gifts, some were envelopes, some were large packages. It was mostly only Fire Nation guests who were granting gifts, as gifts weren’t a big part of Water Tribe culture, but when Katara and Aang came by to hand them a small parcel, Katara held Sokka’s hands in her own gently, and he made sure to smile at her properly, as reassurance that his previous freak-out was done with.

Once the gifts had waned (finally) and Gran-Gran and a man Sokka recognized as the village’s shaman approached them with bowls of dried algae, crushed in preparation.

“Spirits bless you, my darling boy,” Gran-Gran whispered to him as she smudged a mark on his forehead with her thumb. Sokka whispered a muted thank you to her, and let the shaman do the same, watching as his grandmother paused for only a moment to properly take Zuko in before she blessed him also, and rubbed the algae on his forehead.

With the algae done, that meant it was time to dance, and Sokka watched their guests pick up bowls of coloured dust in preparation. The dance had been less than fun to learn – not too dissimilar to Aang’s dance with Katara, it incorporated a lot of firebending forms, so Zuko was fine but Sokka wasn’t quite as coordinated. Unlike Aang and Katara’s dance, which was more choreographed fighting, this had much more close-range movement and moving between one another, constantly aware of the other person’s body.

Shortly after they began dancing, Sokka felt the dust begin to pelt his back, and watched as the vibrant colour filled the space between him and Zuko, covering his white robes completely, and showing up just as vibrant on Zuko’s black ones.

As their dance came to an end, everyone else joined in, and the dust settled to reveal a full dance floor and servants moving the presents out of the way of the bustling feet.

Sokka took a moment to hold Zuko’s face, just for a second, and murmured, “That was incredibly embarrassing,” before they were whisked away by their respective friends and family for hugs and hellos.

Katara was the first to grab Sokka and nearly tackle him into a hug, making a little squealing noise as she got caught up in the excitement of the day, and Aang’s energy (as per usual) was also insanely high as he attached himself to Sokka’s side and didn’t let go.

“Hey, _Fire_ _Prince_ _Sokka_ ,” Suki approached him, arms outstretched, and Aang and Katara (thankfully, for maybe the first time ever in all the time Sokka has known them both) realized it was time to let go as Sokka gently took Suki into his arms and kissed her cheek.

“I’m so happy for you,” she whispered, pulling back to hold his face. “I don’t think I’ve ever been so happy for breaking up with someone.”

Sokka laughed and pulled Suki’s body back to his, swaying gently with her for a while.

He’s pretty sure he caught a glimpse of Zuko being tackled by Ty Lee, but couldn’t quite tell for certain.

Suki was just starting to pull away when Sokka caught a flash of Water Tribe blue that appeared to be attached to a familiar figure, and he let go of her, apologizing for cutting their time, and rushing off before he lost sight of the figure in the crowd.

“Bato!” he called out, and watched as the man in question turned to the sound of his voice. Even though he had sight to warn him, nothing could prepare Bato for the full force of a nearly-fully-grown Sokka barreling into his chest, and they stumbled back a few steps with the inertia.

Sokka rested his face in Bato’s chest (how was he still so much shorter than him?) and hugged tightly.

“Thank you for coming,” Sokka mumbled, tainting the blue robes with the red dust that covered his body.

Bato’s arms closed around him, one hand patting the back of his head.

“I’m proud of you,” Bato whispered, close to Sokka’s ear so he’d hear it fine. “Hakoda told me about how Zuko helped you get him out of prison. That was everything I needed to hear to like the kid. I think you did good.”

“The choice of husband technically wasn’t mine,” Sokka smiled at him, though he guessed that Hakoda had already told him what Sokka had said before the ceremony. “But thank you.”

Bato smiled and ruffled Sokka’s hair, effortlessly undoing his and Katara’s hard work of braiding it.

The rest of the night followed, moving around the room and greeting people, thanking them for coming. Sokka’s not too proud to admit that he spent a full thirty minutes sitting with his grandmother and listening to her speak. He had missed her so much, throughout all of their adventuring and then his back-and-forth antics to and from the Earth Kingdom and Fire Nation in the eighteen months since the end of the war. She had nearly solely raised them, after Kya passed, and had been doing a lot of the child rearing even before Kya passed, and Sokka missed her so damn much sometimes.

Suki joined him at the table with Gran-Gran, and introduced herself and Sokka’s friend from Kyoshi Island, and listened to any stories the woman could possibly give up about Sokka as a baby. Gran-Gran only spoke in Northern or Southern Water Tribe dialects, but they were similar enough that Suki could mostly understand her stories and Sokka mumbled hushed translations whenever she looked confused.

Sokka pulled Suki into his lap, to no complaint, just to enjoy being near her. Both of them were tactile people, and showed their affection through touch a lot of the time, so he knew she understood. He kept his head resting against her, arms around her waist. He couldn’t use words, while they were having a public conversation with his grandmother, but he hoped she understood everything he wanted to say, like ‘I love you’, and ‘thank you’, and ‘I miss you’ and ‘I can’t go another eighteen months without you’ and ‘I’m sorry it’s been eighteen months’.

Pakku caught up with Katara, while they were at the table, and asked how she was going with her waterbending, now that she had been out of fighting for eighteen months. She assured him that her and Aang still practice all the time, and that she had been focusing on more practical uses like healing and grabbing things or hydrating and dehydrating.

(Zuko, across the room, could hear bits and pieces of the conversations around him, and every so often he heard Sokka’s voice, or his laugh, at different points in the evening. At one point he could be sure he heard Sokka chastise Katara, ‘don’t you dare make my wedding day about you, don’t you dare!’ with a full bellied laugh on the end of it. He avoided the table to let Sokka have time with his family, and maybe to avoid having to confront Kanna in person.)

Sokka eventually pulled himself away from the table and caught up with as many warriors as possible before Zuko was joined at his hip and they went back through all the warriors again, this time introducing Zuko to them as well.

Zuko, unfortunately, intended to do the same to Sokka, and the young warrior endured meeting a series of Fire Nation nobles he did not listen to the names of and immediately forgot about afterwards. He did get to say hello to Mai and Ty Lee, though, which was odd, because he had never held a conversation with either of them before, not even when Mai was at the palace to discuss the baby-making issue.

Ty Lee was sweet and bouncy, and she was ecstatic about the wedding. She asked Sokka plenty of questions about himself and was happy to convince him to chat for hours if she was given the chance. Mai, not very talkative, was at least amicable towards Sokka, and she had a tiny hint of a smile on her face which he was pretty sure meant she was beaming.

It was after nearly three hours of this, and Sokka had barely gotten to sneak a snack or two into his mouth, when Iroh and Hakoda approached them both.

“As per Water Tribe tradition,” Hakoda grinned a little, “You’re allowed to leave now if you want.”

“And we can assure you, we don’t care if it is for consummation!” Iroh laughed from his belly and Sokka couldn’t help but laugh as well when he saw the disgusted and frustrated expression on Zuko’s face.

“We won’t be checking, don’t you worry,” Hakoda insisted, looking a little sick himself even thinking about it, and with that the two men dispersed into the crowd.

“Well,” Sokka hummed. “Doesn’t that put you in mood, our dads discussing whether or not we should have sex?”

Zuko snorted and led them to the food table to grab whatever they could carry, and they scuttled off into the abandoned hallways of the palace before anyone could notice.

~*~

Katara glanced around the room and noticed that Sokka and Zuko had left. It was getting late, to be fair, and she was pretty sure neither of them had slept at all last night.

Hakoda was surrounded by familiar blue, and was having a laugh with the warriors, Bato sitting at his side. She smiled fondly, happy that her dad was finally able to see his friends and family again after all of the months he’d spent with Sokka in the Fire Nation.

She didn’t feel like striking up a conversation with any of the stuffy Fire Nation nobles around the room, and Toph appeared to be showing off to a cute girl dressed in red, so Katara scanned the room for orange.

When she finally spotted Aang’s conspicuous robes in the sea of red and blue, she noticed he was engaged in an eager conversation with Ty Lee, Mai loitering next to them somehow looking more bored than usual.

“Hi,” Katara introduced herself to the group when she reached them across the room. Aang and Ty Lee briefly broke their conversation to greet her, Aang taking her hand, before they launched back into an avid discussion that Katara could now hear was about their shared experience of flying, and the surprisingly subtle differences between airbending and gymnastic prowess. 

Katara cast a glance to Mai, and noticed something different about her. It wasn’t just the change in makeup style, either.

Mai was observing the conversation between Aang and Ty Lee, but her gaze was nearly steadily on Ty Lee. It was only when Ty Lee made a controversial remark or personal statement that Mai looked at Aang, like she was carefully studying his reaction.

She was keeping Ty Lee safe.

Katara stood with them, listening to Aang and Ty Lee’s conversation (and it’s ever-changing subject matter) and chiming in when she could, and noticed that every five minutes, just as Mai started to get a fraction more fidgety, Ty Lee would brush her hand against Mai’s and fiddle with her pinkie for a second.

Katara’s mouth fell open with a startle and before she could stop herself there were words coming out of it.

“You guys are a couple!” she blurted, voice quiet enough that no one else overheard but loud enough that Aang and Ty Lee’s words tumbled to a halt.

Mai stiffened, eyes widening and her chest halting, and Katara noticed that Ty Lee was suddenly at the ready. She was ready to calm Mai down or maybe take Katara out, but waiting to see how everything played out before she made a move.

There was a tense silence before Mai swallowed and choked, “Yeah.”

Ty Lee looked surprised, guard dropping, and Mai took her hand.

“I was going to wait until after the wedding to say anything, but,” she was forcing a bored tone back into her voice but Katara could hear the tremor, “I guess it’s pretty much over now, anyway.”

“Really?” Ty Lee’s voice cut in, excitable and a stark contrast to Mai’s monotone. She kissed Mai’s cheek and hugged her from the side. “I’m so proud of you!”

“Yeah, yeah,” Mai rolled her eyes, but Katara didn’t miss the blush that came to her cheeks.

Aang was still standing in quiet shock, eyes widened. Both Mai and Ty Lee seemed ready to cut him down if he started anything, and Aang seemed to notice this too, quickly fixing his face.

“Sorry, it’s just,” he rubbed the back of his head. “Everyone around me is apparently gayer than I thought they were.”

Ty Lee giggled and Mai’s gaze turned to a glare, Aang quickly retracting.

“No, no! That’s not a bad thing, just unexpected,” he waved his hands. “I was raised to believe that sexuality is fluid, and so is gender, y’know? Our bodies are temporary and all that. But the rest of the world doesn’t seem to think so.”

Aang smiled and shrugged folding his arms under his robes, and Mai’s gaze softened a fraction.

“It just surprises me that…” he counted on his fingers. “I think Katara is the only straight person I know.”

Mai chuckled, and even Ty Lee looked shocked at hearing the sound come from her.

It was no surprise that Aang was able to pick up the conversation and redirect it, effortlessly falling back into avid discussion with Ty Lee like nothing had happened.

Mai had a rare but kind of sweet smile _just_ pulling at the edges of her lips, and she had stopped fidgeting so much now. Katara smiled and brought them all some cake when the conversation started to lull, and couldn’t help but giggle at the expression on Mai’s face when Ty Lee attempted to feed her some of the icing.

~*~

Sokka was happily humming into Zuko’s shoulder as they wandered down the halls, not at all drunk but feeling inebriated with the joy and overwhelming contentment of this moment. It was like everything was perfect, right now, and just for now. Sokka didn’t want any part of that feeling to change.

Sokka was munching away on his last curried bean curd puff, as the rest of the food that they had swiped before leaving was quickly eaten, as neither of them had been able to eat all day. Sokka was surprised Zuko hadn’t fainted yet.

Zuko’s fingers were intertwined with his, and – reminding Sokka inadvertently that Zuko had, in fact, been raised in a palace – his face remained contented and relatively neutral. He smiled, but didn’t giggle with his husband ( _husband!_ ), and when Sokka nuzzled close he tilted his head for a brief moment but didn’t reciprocate.

Sokka didn’t mind though. He hadn’t married the emotionally repressed drama queen with the expectation that he would suddenly become a master of wit and social understanding. He married him because he was told to, technically, but he loved Zuko because he was _Zuko_ , and he loved whatever came with that.

Sokka’s footsteps tripped up and he slowed as his brain slowly wrapped around that thought.

He loved Zuko.

The prince slowed also, still linking their arms, and cautiously leaned closer to Sokka’s face, kissing his forehead.

“What’s wrong?”

Sokka startled at the sound of Zuko’s voice, suddenly remembering that he was a human being and was meant to interact and react when spoken to.

“Huh? Oh! Nothing,” he smiled, tilting his chin and stealing a quick kiss. “Just had a thought, is all. You’ve got algae on your forehead, still.”

Zuko smiled, and there it was! There was the infatuated, love-struck dummy Sokka knew was tucked deep into those polite-high-society instincts. It usually took a closed door behind them for Sokka to see it. Zuko grinned dumbly, pushing his lips together like the kiss Sokka had given him was their first and he was savouring it.

“So do you,” he finally responded.

They were only a few steps from the Zuko’s chambers, and Sokka smushed the rest of the puff into his mouth, untangled himself from his prince, and threw the doors open.

“All this marrying has made me-”

Sokka’s words stopped with a sudden hitch in his breath as he saw the inside of the room.

Zuko, heart in his gut and suddenly much less love-dumb, let energy flow to his fingertips ready to strike whatever danger may present itself and joined Sokka at the door to see why he had startled to a halt.

The flames on his fingers died out as he took the sight in.

“They built a nest,” Sokka whispered in awe, slowly stepping into the room.

In the middle of Zuko’s room, where there had been an open expanse, there was now a small crater in the floor about the size of a double bed that was filled with blankets, pillows, rugs, even... clothes? Anything soft and comfortable had been tossed in, filling the crater and its surrounds.

Zuko watched with confusion as Sokka spun around toward his new husband and exclaimed, “They built a nest!”

Zuko nodded, “They did,” then threw his hands up in gesture towards the construction, “Why?”

Sokka, who had already jumped into the pile of soft fabrics, nestled in and ran his hand over what looked to be an anorak made of thick, long fur.

“Dad and Katara must have done this,” he murmured, then met Zuko’s eyes. “This is an old Water Tribe tradition. _Super_ old. You know how I said a lot of traditions we stopped doing? This wasn’t even done at my parents’ wedding!”

Zuko let himself take a deep breath in. _Don’t scream about the hole in your bedroom floor._

“Okay, but- what is it?”

Sokka let himself sink in.

“Years ago, for weddings, you know how we said there was the ceremonial tent for the couple? The whole village would come together the day before and put a nest together of blankets and pillows and usually some clothes from important family members. It’s weird, and time and resource consuming, so I’ve never even seen it done.”

Zuko couldn’t help but feel light, just at the look on Sokka’s face.

“It wasn’t just your dad and sister, Sokka,” he noticed. “Toph must have helped out as well, she made a crater in the middle of my room.”

Zuko tried not to let any malice sneak into that sentence. _She made a crater in the middle of his room._

Instead, the prince walked over and jumped into the nest with Sokka, taking in the effort that had been put into the work of art.

“And... that’s Iroh’s smoking jacket,” he noticed with a frown.

Sokka glanced around and beamed, “That’s Suki’s coat!”

There were a couple of Aang’s robes thrown in, too, and bits and pieces here and there of Water Tribe and Fire Nation cloth and decoration.

Zuko smiled as he watched Sokka’s excitement build, and couldn’t help but say it out loud.

“Your village made this for you.”

Sokka beamed up at Zuko like he was going to cry. He wanted to say, ‘they made it for _us’_ but Zuko knew that. He wanted to say, ‘they didn’t have to make this’ but they both knew that too.

Sokka was slowly being overwhelmed by the realisation that this nest, this was from their friends. Not just another melding of cultures, this was a long dead tradition that only they knew about. This was a private wedding gift; this was Hakoda saying, ‘I’m sorry I married you off but I’ll try and make up for it’; this was Suki saying, ‘I’m okay with your new boyfriend’; this was Katara saying, ‘I trust him enough and I’m happy for you’; and honestly there was probably a message from Toph and her all-seeing feet in there that said, ‘finally!’.

On the outside, this was an arranged marriage to bring their nations together, but their friends knew better. This was a gift behind the closed doors of the palace chambers, maybe not a wedding gift, but still a way of supporting them and their relationship.

Zuko took Sokka’s hand again and settled in close, surprised at how comforted his weight was by the pillows and blankets.

Sokka smiled at him with an expression Zuko couldn’t place, and cradled the prince’s face in his hand.

“Thank you,” Sokka whispered, “for today.”

“Why are you thanking me?” Zuko murmured.

“I’m just really grateful. You’ve been pretty alright to handle through all this wedding planning, less tantrums than I anticipated,” Sokka teased. “Today was really good. Thank you.”

“I love you,” Zuko whispered, pushing his face into Sokka’s neck, overwhelmed with the emotion in the room.

Sokka went to scoop Zuko up in his arms, but his movement was limited by his robes pinching under his arms. He noticed belatedly that his thighs were trapped with limited range as well, the ceremonial robes not intended for much movement.

Sokka sat up and stretched, then slowly began untying the white sash that looped over his chest.

Zuko watched quietly, opting to not move, letting the exhaustion of the day settle into his bones.

Sokka noticed his tiredness and smirked, pulling his robes off.

“You’re right, I am too tired to consummate,” he joked.

It was true though. He had been so stressed the whole day and then once the wedding started it didn’t stop, and now he had an intense headache from not eating or drinking all day, but still running around and dancing and being surrounded by noise all night. It’s not like he slept that well the night before, either.

Zuko snorted, and reached a hand out to gently rest against Sokka’s hip as a response.

Sokka smiled, kicking his shoes and silk pants off and putting Zuko’s hand back within proximity to the body it was attached to. He gently turned Zuko over onto his back and untied the sash on his robes.

Zuko smiled up at him and huffed out a laugh.

“You’ve gotta undress me,” he smirked, “I don’t want to.”

Sokka rolled his eyes. “I am not sleeping next to you if you’ve got shoulder spikes and those pointy shoes on.”

Zuko chuckled and helped Sokka lift off the top layer of shoulder armor, then the thick robes underneath, and kicked his shoes outside of their nest.

“Mm,” Sokka hummed, falling back against the pillows. “Goodnight, baby.”

“Don’t call me that,” Zuko laughed, rolling Sokka over and nipping at his neck as punishment.

“Fine,” Sokka smirked. “Goodnight, _husband_.”

Zuko hummed, exhausted and already slipping into soft sleepiness.

Sokka felt the words sitting on his tongue like a weight, but his mouth wouldn’t open to let them free. Maybe that was a good thing. For right now, he just wanted to enjoy being in a Water Tribe wedding nest – _he still couldn’t believe they built him a nest_ – with his boyfriend-husband-person, and sleep the day’s festivities off. Tomorrow was the tea ceremony, and he had to be up at dawn – _dawn_ – and even though it probably wasn’t even that close to midnight yet, Sokka felt like he had been awake for days.

He let the words rattle around his brain instead, over and over until he drifted to sleep.

_‘I love you, Zuko.’_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> THAT'S IT FOLKS
> 
> SHOW IS OVER
> 
> THE ORDEAL IS FINISHED


	16. Epilogue

Sokka hugged his anorak tighter, embracing the familiar icy wind on his face. He and Katara were sat out on a dingy little canoe out in the smooth water of the ice-fields, and he was having some serious de ja vu to that day so long ago now, when they found Aang in the ice.

“You have no idea how good it is to be home,” he breathes out, beaming at the puff of frost that leaves his mouth. His throat was icy and his cheeks were burning and he loved it.

Katara rolled her eyes. “I do, actually. I’ve only been home a couple weeks, Sokka.”

“Yeah, but you’ve been staying in the Northern Air Temple, right?” he countered. “That’s practically in the North Pole. Try living in the tropics for a year, woman!”

He should have expected to be splashed in the face for that, in all fairness.

After he had finished yelling about the icy water that was now soaking the fur lining on his hood and already crystalizing in the cold air, Katara hummed, gently bending the water to find fish.

“How’s it going with Prince Hotman, anyway?” she chuckled. “Killed each other yet?”

Sokka stuck out his tongue and made an immature noise.

“No,” he answered, smiling fondly when she rolled her eyes (three times in five minutes! If he could get her to do it one more time that would probably be a record). “We’re doing good. People seem to have mostly settled about the whole thing, now. It’s starting to finally just be a bit of information instead of catty gossip, so that’s good.”

Katara nodded. In their travels, she and Aang had spent a lot of time listening to people lament about the wedding, most of the time not even realizing that Sokka was her brother, or that they knew the Fire Prince so personally as they did.

Sokka knew what they had heard, no one was trying to hide their voices even though it could technically be construed as treason. No one in the Fire Nation particularly cared about being ‘treasonous’ towards Zuko, anyway, after he was a dirty little banished boy, then the returned hero, then the traitor, then the brave hero of peace _or_ the confused protégée of a traitor (depending on how they felt about Iroh). They were all confused about how to talk about him, so they mostly just stopped caring if it was rude.

Katara had spent the whole year since the wedding listening to people complain that Zuko was betraying his country and muddling the royal line – and when they ventured to the Earth Kingdom and Northern Water Tribe, oh boy, she and Aang had heard some _strong_ _opinions_ about two men getting married. The Water Tribes, both poles, weren’t particularly happy about Sokka ‘becoming the enemy’ either, some people going so far as to create theories that he was an unwilling sex-slave sold to the Fire Nation in exchange for financial aid for the Southern Water Tribe.

 _That_ particular conspiracy theory was shut down very quickly, Katara and Aang upset with it for layers of reasons. She hadn’t told Sokka about it, but assumed he had heard anyway.

“Hey,” Sokka drew Katara out of her thoughts. “I… I’ve been meaning to ask how… how you feel about me and Zuko.”

Katara paused.

“Do you mean you two being married, or you being together in general?”

Sokka shrugged. “Both?”

Katara hummed and let her hands sit in her lap. Her brother stopped rowing and settled the oar down to listen. He thought she would just say something quick and supportive, but apparently they were in for a _conversation_.

“I mean,” she started, and Sokka felt his guts twist. “I don’t think Dad was right to arrange you to marry a royal from another nation, let alone one of our close friends, but also if you were going to have an arranged marriage, Zuko’s a pretty good option.”

“Do you still think it was a good decision?” Sokka sighed, laying down at the end of the canoe. “I feel like I’m ignoring my duties to the tribe or something.”

“Ugh,” Katara rolled her eyes again (a record!), “Sokka. Do you want me to be the chief? Will that make you shut up?”

“No, that’s different,” Sokka waved a hand and sat up. “Your destiny is intertwined with the Avatar, you can’t be chief, your destiny was to help him and help the world with him, or something.”

Katara kicked at Sokka’s hip and he yelped.

“My destiny is _not_ to tie myself to a boy I met,” she insisted, “My destiny is to do whatever I can to make the world around me a better place and Aang was a good opportunity to do that. Don’t write me off like that!”

Sokka held up his hands in surrender and Katara kept talking before he could apologise.

“Besides, it’s not just my destiny that got mixed up with Aang’s,” Katara prodded him again where Sokka was sure she had left a bruise on his hip, “You were steering the canoe.”

Sokka frowned. She was right, technically. It hurt to even think the phrase ‘Katara is right’, but it was true.

“I don’t think either of us were meant to stay here,” Katara shrugged. “I think it was time for the world to change, to come together. I think we found Aang because it was time to stop separating ourselves into different countries, different people. At the wedding, I wasn’t just saying it to calm you down, Sokka. I don’t think we’re meant to stay here, not after everything.”

Katara huffed and crossed her arms.

“I think your destiny is to help the Water Tribes from the outside, or something. You’ve done so much already, the South Pole is talking about setting up _tourism_ because people from the Fire Nation want to visit.”

Katara poked his bruise with her foot again and smirked when Sokka cried out and swatted at her leg.

“Don’t get a big head, though.”

~*~

They were knelt together, hands clasped together between them, knees touching, as the sun slowly began to set over the horizon. There were on a precipice overlooking the village, knelt on the ceremonial rug from their first wedding. The village shaman, a shorter man who had left the village to fight during the war, was knelt next to them, humming to himself as the village made their passage up the hill to the precipice.

Sokka closed his eyes and let a cold wind wash over his body, opening his eyes to let the sight of his husband warm him. They were both clad in traditional white coats, both fur-lined and Zuko’s extra thick to protect him against the cold. He had protested, initially, about that fact that he was a firebender so he could warm himself up, but he hadn’t protested once he put the coat on.

Both of them had their hoods up, and both of them had taken their hair down just for the event (mostly because it was easier to keep their hoods up that way).

This wedding was so much smaller than the last one, but somehow this was more nerve wracking for Zuko. He was kneeling on the land his people had plundered, taking the Southern Water Tribe’s next chief away from them. He was sitting only a short distance away from Kanna, and he was filled up with gallons of guilt and shame being so near her and still having the gall to take her grandson from her – again.

But Sokka was holding his hand so that made it better.

They had been together for a year now, today marking exactly one year since the wedding. Many things had changed in that year, but some things hadn’t changed at all.

Sokka had barely lasted a few hours into their honeymoon before he tripped up and blurted, “I love you,” in the middle of berating Zuko for bringing up the past again, and there hadn’t been much talking at all after that.

They had spent their brief honeymoon at the Western Air Temple, for old time’s sake, and spent most of it doing the things they wish they’d had time to do when they were first there. Most of their time was spent fishing or sparring or sleeping, and taking the time to admire the temple without the stress of staying hidden or the looming threat of Sozin’s Comet. They had only brought bare basics, Zuko only brought one outfit other than the royal robes he was dressed in when they left, and Sokka also only threw a set a casual robes into a bag alongside his old hunting equipment and had called himself ready to go.

Upon arriving back to the castle, the blur of daily life had started up again and Sokka, now technically a Prince of the Fire Nation, slotted himself into particular meetings on peace initiatives and founded the beginnings of an education reform to assist in completely renovating the Fire Nation’s school system.

(Of course, this wasn’t very well received considering Sokka had no ‘formal education’ in the eyes of the Fire Nation, until Iroh waved his hand and mentioned it was a good idea and that he had Earth Kingdom friends who would also like to help, and suddenly the reform was a fantastic idea.)

(Sokka had caught Iroh winking at him and nearly hugged the old man.)

And, the most important development, was a complete secret that Sokka couldn’t even tell Katara and it was eating him up inside, which was that Zuko’s coronation had been quietly scheduled for a couple months away.

They weren’t allowed to discuss it in the palace yet, most of the staff still unaware, but behind closed doors Zuko had been exposed to Sokka’s constant teasing and curiosity.

“If you’re Firelord doesn’t that technically also make me Firelord?”

“What the word for husband-of-Firelord?”

“Wait, how much power do I have as your husband?”

The answer to the last one was, “Technically I control how much power you have as my husband, and right now I’m honestly worried you’re going to take over the world or something, so I’m not going to give you any power.”

And now, after a year, they were back at the South Pole to visit Sokka’s family. When they were planning the trip, Zuko had mentioned something, something he had been thinking about for a while, which was that Sokka had given up a lot of his life to join Zuko’s. And that if they were travelling to the South Pole for their anniversary, maybe it was a good time to give Sokka some parts of his culture back, and redo the wedding.

And here they were.

The shaman read strengthening statements, and asked for an objection from the village which Zuko was very terrified about. He was sure that if this was their first wedding there would be objections, but most of the people there knew that even if they objected that nothing would change, Sokka was already married.

(Sokka’s pretty sure he saw Aang go to make a loud joke about objecting before being physically restrained by Katara.)

They had water from the ocean dabbed on their foreheads, the spirits were called upon to bless them – and the shaman had spoken to Sokka about the happenings at the Northern Water Tribe earlier, and used Yue’s name when asking for the moon spirit’s blessing.

Sokka kissed him and the chant began, and they were lifted up onto Aang and Katara’s shoulders. Aang was now fifteen, and even though he had grown he and Zuko had nothing on Sokka and Katara who both practically towered over them at this point. Katara did lift her brother in law but Aang was mostly using his airbending.

Partway through the night, Hakoda stole his son away from the crowd and walked him just outside the limits of the village, the celebration still in sight but far enough away that they could have a quiet conversation.

Hakoda elbowed his son and rested a comforting hand on Sokka’s head, gently rubbing his hair.

“I’m so proud of you.”

 _Shit_ , oh _no_ , that was a tear-trigger for Sokka.

Hakoda continued. “I’m proud of you for being able to tell me about you and Zuko, last year, and for being able to work things out with him. I know it couldn’t have been easy.”

Sokka nodded mutely, but didn’t dare open his mouth.

Hakoda smiled softly. He liked Zuko. He was distrustful, at first, because anyone in his position would have been, but he knew within a day that Zuko was a trustworthy young man. When Iroh had approached him with the suggestion from the Earth King, Hakoda had no worries about Sokka being mistreated or pushed aside. He knew that the prince was loyal, and had evidence that he could even be kind.

But after the wedding, leaving Sokka in another country while he went back home, it made it clear that he had signed his son’s life away. He was under no false impression about what was happening, and had felt the guilt long before the wedding, but it hurt to leave his son standing on the shoreline again.

“Your mother and I were an arranged marriage too, which I’m sure you’ve guessed by now,” the older man whispered softly. Sokka had guessed, but hadn’t let himself fully take in that concept. It hurt to hear his father say it out loud.

“I love her,” he continued. “She was my best friend. But she wasn’t who I wanted to marry. I had to have children, though, so I couldn’t choose who I wanted.”

 _That_ confession hit Sokka like a sack to the chest. This implied that his dad _did_ want to marry someone, someone he couldn’t have kids with. His dad-

“I didn’t want to tell either of you, because I don’t want you both to feel that I love you any less, or that you were just born because of my duty to the tribe,” Hakoda was getting emotional and Sokka didn’t know if he could handle hearing a waver in his father’s voice without losing his own emotions all over the place. “I love you both, so much. You mean everything to me, no matter what.”

Oh _no_ , Sokka actually couldn’t hold tears back, not now. Today had already been a big day and he had not been prepared for this.

“This whole time I felt like I just did exactly what my parents did, that I made the same mistake, but then you told me about you and Zuko and-”

Sokka grabbed his dad tight, pressing his face into his chest. Hakoda smiled, kissed his head, and finished his sentence.

“And I can see that he really cares about you. He’ll take care of you.”

Sokka nodded, trying his best not to make a sound but accidentally coughing out some sort of sobbing noise anyway.

Sue him, he had to deal with the grief of his mum alone and become the sole parent of his baby sister because his dad left when he was eleven. He had some issues with holding his emotion for years until it all spilled out. He was allowed to cry.

“He’ll do,” Sokka joked, and Hakoda laughed deeply from his belly and brushed his son’s hair gently.

~*~

“No nest this time?” Zuko commented as they entered the haphazard little tent shunted off to the edge of the village.

Sokka smiled gently and held onto Zuko’s arm.

“Nope, just blankets and a very warm firebender.”

He was nuzzling into Zuko’s arm now, desperate to get away from the cold. Zuko took the initiative and stripped both of their outer layers off, climbing into the bed first and pulling Sokka with him. Zuko breathed deeply and focused his energy to his skin, trying to radiate out as cautiously as possible, and he knew he had succeeded when Sokka made a little noise and clung onto his body like an aardvark-sloth clinging to a branch.

It was eerily reminiscent of that time in the cave near the Western Air Temple, the very first time. Sokka’s head gently resting on his chest, purely selfish in his attempt to soak up as much body heat as possible, except this time they had more layers on and were in a tent and they were married.

Twice.

“Hey,” Sokka mumbled against Zuko’s shirt, poking his bicep. “Are you thinking? No thinking, sleeping only.”

Zuko chuckled under his breath and couldn’t help himself, “Aren’t we meant to be having sex, to consummate the marriage?”

Sokka half-heartedly waved a hand. “We’ve already consummated this marriage, it’s fine.”

Zuko snorted and gripped Sokka’s shirt tighter, holding onto him as close as he possibly could.

After all this time, sometimes it still felt like a mirage. It felt like if he fell asleep he would wake up and he had dreamed the whole thing, or maybe one day Sokka would ask him why Zuko felt it was okay to kiss him, like they had only been friends this whole time.

It felt like Sokka’s love had to be conditional. There had to be something that Zuko would do or say that would break him, that would break them.

But there wasn’t. Not yet, at least.

Sokka had stuck around and even seemed to be enjoying his time in the palace. He played pai sho with Iroh whenever they got the chance and Zuko hated it because Sokka was genuinely really good, and had beaten Iroh more than once while Zuko never got close to even finishing a game before he stormed out.

He had made a name for himself amongst the palace staff as well, like he was completely unable to walk past someone without making friends. He was on a first-name basis with more than half of the staff, and he humanized them without realizing. Zuko had tried to be pleasant with the staff, tried to convince them he wasn’t going to burn or banish them for smiling at him, but to very little avail.

Sokka, though, he just waltzed in and charmed everyone he could get within talking range to. And Zuko knew that he was using his power of charm for good, using his friendships with the staff to encourage them to have a more amicable relationship with their prince.

This was along with his work with the educational system, the ambassadors, the peace initiatives, and he still sometimes let himself be kidnapped by Aang and Katara to go on adventures here and there.

There had been four attempted assassinations since their wedding. After the first one, Zuko was so sure Sokka would leave that he had blocked out a week in his schedule to travel with him to the South Pole to protect him on the journey down. Sokka had stared at him, jaw slack and eyebrows drawn like Zuko had offended him.

“Zuko,” he had said, and the prince couldn’t erase it from his memory even if he wanted to, “ _You’ve_ made better attempts to kill me then that, and you weren’t even trying to kill me.”

The second time came shortly afterward, revealed that the first attempt was a ruse to make them scared and the attackers could strike the night after, right before the guards were increased.

This particular group was of the understanding that Sokka, a husband of an arranged marriage and a Water Tribe savage, would be sleeping in his own room. He was not. The assailants learnt this shortly after one of them was pinned to the wall by a sharpened boomerang and Zuko had the room in flames.

Sokka never left. Not after the next one or the one after that. He sat by Zuko’s side and helped the police force investigate the group responsible, and he went back to Zuko’s room every night.

Iroh had started making jokes that Zuko was rubbing off on Sokka, after the young warrior engaged in a screaming match with one of the ambassadors and slammed the door in a huff on his way out. Zuko would have laughed, probably, if he weren’t trying so desperately to stay upright, feeling faint at the prospect of his husband being the one to start another war.

He had started to get used to the weather in the Fire Nation, now actually wearing warmer clothes in winter while last year he was still only wearing a layer or two.

Zuko had made a secret pact with himself that they’d do this as often as possible, spend as much time as they could in the South Pole, and if he couldn’t go then Sokka would go and visit anyway.

Most of Zuko hated the Poles, hated the cold and the ice and the amount of layers he had to wear to stay alive, but a small part of him loved it. It was tranquil and calm, and it was beautiful.

“I love you,” Sokka mumbled, breaking the silence and Zuko’s train of thought.

The prince pulled the covers tighter over them both and ran him thumb along the shaved hair on the side of Sokka’s head.

“I love you, too.”


End file.
